


King of the Jungle

by SkyRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Inter-House Unity, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/pseuds/SkyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surely Harry Potter deserves one peaceful year at Hogwarts, now that he’s vanquished Lord Voldemort and is seemingly safe for the time being. Hogwarts doesn’t seem to agree once Slytherins start disappearing, a Ghostly cat roams the halls, and his house begins to turn on itself. Heroic Harry considers every theory thrown has he helps track down the missing students, though, even if he recently aged into an adult, Draco Malfoy is still his favourite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Commencement

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Drarry fic, and my first fic on this account. I'm an amateur writer, so tread lightly. Basically, I'm writing this to revisit the wonder that is Hogwarts. I truly missed reading about Harry's adventures through classes and the mysterious castle. While I have been reading purely Eighth Year fics for probably a month now, I decided it was time I try to make my own. In a perfect world, I'd have a new chapter up every week. However, I can't promise anything. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! :) P.S. Sorry if the spacing is weird, Google Docs is a pain. I'll get around to fixing it as soon as I figure out the problem.

Chapter One:  **Commencement**

 

Harry knew Gryffindor and Slytherin weren’t exactly getting on well even before the first student went missing. Heck, all of Hogwarts knew.

 

“Break it up! Break it up! C’mon! Drop your wands!” Head Boy Ron shouted at the dueling boys. They didn’t responded Ron’s commotion, keeping their wands against each other’s neck. Ron was forced to reluctantly intervene physically. He roughly grabbed the Seventh Year Gryffindor, Oliver Nesson, and a Slytherin Prefect held back Theodore Nott.

 

“What the hell is the problem here?” Ron exclaimed in Nesson’s ear. Nesson pulled and shook at Ron’s arms keeping him strongly in place.

 

“I gotta better question. Why is Death Eater shit still wandering the halls?” Nesson growled at Nott, threateningly flashing his teeth at him.

“Did your Mudblood father ask you that?” Nott hissed back, trying to free himself from the Slytherin Prefect much like Nesson continued to do with Ron.

“Quiet!” Ron barked at the two of them. While the sharp noise caused many bystanders to jump, the blokes continued to argue as if no one else was there.

“You’d better watch your mouth! Wouldn’t want to end up in a grave like your mother!” Nesson threatened. He stomped on Ron’s foot, trying to escape. A painful expression exploded on Ron’s face, but he still held the boy tightly.

“At least my mother married a real wizard!” Nott yelled with his fists balled at either side. Both boys had snapped as they were thrown the evilest insults to occupy the Wizarding World — in their eyes, of course — and charged at each other once they escaped the desperate peacemakers.

“ _Gentlemen!_ ” A fierce voice boomed down the hall. The two of them froze, paleing as McGonagall regally emerged from the students surrounding them. “Dare I ask what is going on here?”

“Just a... disagreement,” Nesson said, staring at his shoes. The crowd surrounding them began to decline in numbers as the excitingly dangerous duel had come to a resolution.

“It looks far more serious than that, Mr. Nesson,” McGonagall snapped with a piercing glare. Nesson’s right hand was severely burned, Nott had a black eye while blood gushed from his nostrils, and their robes were torn up and and drenched in water.  “I believe quite a dangerous duel just took place.”

“He hexed me first!” Nott exclaimed, pointing at Nesson.

“It doesn’t matter who initiated the fight, both of you will be serving three detentions each,” McGonagall said sharply. She sent them down to Pomfrey’s with Gryffindor and Slytherin Prefects. Ron explained to her what he witnessed, as well as a few students from the crowd. Harry didn’t bother speaking up. He patiently waited until McGonagall dismissed Ron so they could go flying like they had planned.

“Some fight that was,” Ron commented when he walked up to Harry.

Harry nodded. “Surprised they both came out alive.”

“Hermione said she figured something like this would happen eventually. Things have been... tense, with the Slytherins,” Ron said, gripping his broomstick a bit tighter.

Harry had noticed the snappishness of the  Slytherins had intensified this year. Many students were uncomfortable about who was allowed to return, Harry included, and some weren’t exactly secretive about it. The Hufflepuffs usually were quiet, the Ravenclaws only threw distasteful glares, but some of the Gryffindors were brash with their opinions. Slytherins were equally provoking, making _not-so-subtle_ jeers at anyone who looked them up the wrong way.

“My money was on you and Malfoy being the first to snap but I—”

“You were betting on me getting into a fight?” Harry asked, slightly offended.

“Oh, don’t act so innocent. I know you and Ginny were betting on who would make-up first,” Ron replied, referring to the disagreement that took place with him and his girlfriend last week.

Harry pulled out two galleons from his pocket, and grinned. “I won. You really are a wuss when it comes to Hermione.”

“Sod off.” Ron glared and shoved him into a wall.

Harry’s glasses slid off his nose and onto the floor, making his vision blur, but he didn’t need to see to know who’s voice was mocking him. “Better get those hideous glasses fixed, Potter. Who knows what you’ll be walking into next,” Malfoy jeered as he strolled by. Harry threw him a nasty look. Malfoy sneered back, but continued away silently.

“Speaking of the devil,” Ron said as he watched Malfoy turn the corner.

“He seemed right pissed,” Harry commented. Malfoy has been _mostly_ quiet since the school year had started, he only insulted Harry once a week at most.

“Probably caught word of Nott,” Ron agreed humourously.

Harry and Ron flew in the Quidditch pitch for about an hour. Harry let Ron get some Keeper practice in by throwing the Quaffle around some. Most of the time was spent simply flying around, chasing each other, and trying to knock the other off their broom. Flying is easily the most relaxing activity for Harry. Ron and him try to get out as much as they can, but studies, assignments, and Hermione’s leash on their schoolwork doesn’t allow quite as much as he liked. Part of him could spend his whole life flying.

Once they were exhausted and starving, they finally landed and headed to Hagrid’s hut. They were hoping for a bite, since dinner wouldn’t be until another hour and a half.

“Harry! Ron! Haven’ seen yer in a while!” Hagrid exclaimed when he swung the door open.

“Hello Hagrid,” Ron and Harry chimed, cheeks reddened from the wind.

“Come in! Come in!” Hagrid herded them inside and to a pair of chairs at the small dinner table. “Care fer a cup ’o tea?”

“That’d be brilliant,” Harry answered and Ron nodded along.

“Yer in luck, I just made a pot!” Hagrid happily said as he poured the boys their cups of tea. He beamed down at them as he handed them.

“Thanks,” Ron rejoiced and began to gulp down the scalding drink. His appetite never ceased to amuse Harry.

“No problem,” Hagrid replied as lounged in his new, enormous arm chair. Hagrid had many brand new things around his hut, even some that Harry had gifted to him. Hagrid had been able to repair his hut surprisingly well from the damage the fire had caused it. It was slightly bigger than before, but it still have off a sense of closeness that Harry quite enjoyed.

“The third years nice so far?” Ron asked Hagrid curiously.

“Oh, yeah. Real polite bunch, ’em,” Hagrid answered. “They’re kind ’o jumpy, but that’s understandable after...”

Harry knew everyone that had been in Hogwarts the previous year was struggling. They were wary of anything and everyone, much like Harry sometimes had been. The older students dealt with the memories of last year much better than the younger ones. Second, Third, and Fourth Year all had a lack of students this year. Hagrid’s unfinished sentence loomed in the air until a knock came at the door.

“Who is it?” Hagrid called at the door.

“Hermione,” she said and Hagrid jumped up to let her in. “Hello Hagrid,” she greeted as she stepped inside. “Ron and Harry, too.”

“How’d you know we were here?” Ron inquired with an eyebrow raised.

“Parvati saw you walking down here,” she stated and took a seat next to Harry. She happily accepted the cup of tea Hagrid offered her immediately.

“Did you hear about Nott and Nesson?” Ron asked Hermione and Hagrid curiously.

“What about them?” Hermione questioned back.

“I heard! Nasty little duel between ’em,” Hagrid informed Hermione. “McGonagall sent all the teachers letters. We’ve been asked to keep out for any more _disagreements._ ”

“Oh dear. I knew it would happen eventually,” Hermione faintly spoke. “Nott was an easy target.”

“Easy target?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Hermione! You shoulda heard what he was saying to Nesson. He’s not exactly the victim here,” Ron protested, smacking the table with his palm.

“He _is_ an easy target. Some students are angry about who they lost to the war. Nott’s father was a Death Eater, now he’s being ridiculed over something he can’t help. Slytherin’s house as a whole has had their reputation smashed into dust, but it would be only natural that someone with more direct ties to — _Voldemort!_ — would be the first to fall victim to it. He may not be a very pleasant boy, but I don’t think he deserves to be hexed over something his father did,” Hermione ranted in her usual debate-fashion. Ron stared back at her with his mouth wide open.

“She makes a good point,” Hagrid admitted, eyeing at the boys who didn’t seemed to concur.

“Why didn’t Malfoy get in the first fight then?” Ron countered Hermione’s argument. Harry had been biting his tongue to keep himself from saying the exact same thing.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron. “The Ministry is keeping a close eye on him. One slip up from him and he could be expelled. He’s knows not to mess around. Honestly, Ronald,” she answered with hesitation.

Hermione and Ron continued the quarrel back and forth — each time Hermione made _far_ better pointed — while Harry and Hagrid chatted about upcoming Care for Magical Creatures classes. Harry didn’t _technically_ needed to take the class for his Auror requirements, but he liked to spend time with Hagrid. It also may or may not have anything to do with very light difficulty of the class.

They eventually headed to the Great Hall for dinner, which was already swarming with students. Harry had thought that the school would feel a lot more empty — many, _many_ students didn’t return this year — but with the addition of Eighth Year, it was as packed as ever.

Hagrid said his goodbyes to them all as he headed to the staff table and took his seat there. Hermione, Harry, and Ron all took seats by Neville and Ginny, who were engrossed in a conversation about wild fight as were most of the students in the Great Hall. Word spread fast in Hogwarts, Harry knew that well. Harry hurried to distract Neville and Ginny, fearing the thought of having to listen to Ron and Hermione argue more.

“So have you scheduled Quidditch try-outs yet?” Harry asked Ginny, she immediately beamed at him. She was thrilled when she was offered the position of Captain. Harry had declined the offer, knowing he’d be plenty busy with his schoolwork. It was all worth it when he got to see Ginny smiling wider than he’d ever seen her before.

“Not yet. I’m the first week of October, that way we’ll have a month to train any rookies before the match against Slytherin,” Ginny said thoughtly.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. They’ll be getting a new Chaser, Keeper, _and_ Beater,” Ron reported as he began to fill his plate.

“Really?” Seamus said leaning over to look at Ron, he was sat on the opposite side of Neville.

“Yeah. Their Keeper didn’t return this year, neither did Urquhart, and Crabbe is — well — you know,” Ron finished awkwardly. A quick memory of hot, licking flames and a hurtful grip around his waist assaulted Harry’s mind. He coughed, relieving his suddenly constricted lungs.

Ginny seemed unfazed by the mention of the late Slytherin. “Urquhart didn’t come back?”

“Half of Slytherin didn’t,” Dean pointed out. Harry noticed Dean was sitting next to Ginny as well. Feeling slightly possessive of his kinda-girlfriend, he leaned in closer to Ginny.

_Kinda-girlfriend_ is the sad term he has been calling her. He didn’t ask her out officially last summer, nor has he since class started. He isn’t even sure if he even fancies her nowadays. He thinks she might fancy him, or maybe not. Harry’s _hopeless_ when it comes to girls, or at least that’s what Hermione says. She’s usually correct.

“But who’s captain then?” Ginny questioned.

“Maybe Zabini,” Seamus guessed.

“He’s Head Boy, I doubt he’d do both,” Hermione said with some impatience in her tone. Quidditch always did bore her some.

“It’s gotta be Malfoy, he loves bossing people around,” Ron pointed out confidently.

“I doubt he’d want to bring himself anymore attention,” Hermione replied. “Just being on the Quidditch team is risky enough for a coward like him.”

_Coward_ , the truthful word stuck out to Harry. He looked to the Slytherin table to see Malfoy, his hands swished around as he told the Eighth Year Slytherins a story with an expressive range of faces. They all giggled and howled as the story comes to what looks like a dramatic ending. He dismissed the group — _as one would a servant_ — once they were down with their fits of laughter and leaned into Parkinson’s ear and whisper something, her eyes lit up with scandal. She gaped at him in disbelief. He smirked at her, then turned to Goyle and started up a conversation with him. Harry wondered what was so shocking. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was planning on hexing Nesson. _One slip up from him and he could be expelled._ Or maybe he just made a shocking joke.

“You don’t think it could be _Goyle_ then?” Ron asked in a whisper. Glancing at the lonely Slytherin next to Malfoy.

“I would be surprised if Goyle even joined the team this year,” Harry said, more to himself.

“Why’s that?” Ginny questioned him.

Harry blushed, feeling caught red-handed. “Oh — uh — without Crabbe — I just thought,” Harry stuttered. He’d noticed that Goyle was extremely depressed over the loss of his best friend. He followed Malfoy around alone now, only half-laughing at his jokes. He was sad to look at, truly.

“Right,” Ginny said solemnly. “But if Malfoy’s Captain, don’t be surprised if he joins.”

“Goyle is Malfoy’s dog, never leaves his side,” Ron agreed, slightly mocking Goyle. “He hate to have Malfoy off at practice while he lugs around alone.”

“Maybe in the past, but Malfoy seems to be alone more often,” Hermione said, she gave a quick glance at the Slytherin table. “I also heard he’s dating Astoria Greengrass.”

“Who?” Harry questioned, throwing a few looks at the Slytherin table as if he’d find a face that would miraculously match the name.

“Daphne’s younger sister,” Ginny explained, but gave Hermione a disagreeing look. “But I think Astoria just fancies him, Malfoy doesn’t seem interested.”

“Isn’t he still with Pansy Parkinson?” Parvati piped. Harry scowled, Malfoy seemed to be doing much better with girls than he was. At least he’s still a better Seeker than him, and just a better person in general. Morally.

“Oh _goodness_ no, they broke it off ages ago,” Hermione replied, exaggerating a little. Harry wondered when she was so interested in the love-lives of her peers, especially ones that have explicitly stated that don’t like her much. In fact they hate her. _Very, very much so._

“Is Malfoy really the most interesting topic we have right now?” Harry tiredly asked Ron.

“Consider it payback for our entire Sixth Year,” Ron chuckled, and Harry scowled down at his plate. “But... George has been working on some brilliant new products lately. I got a letter from him last night.”

“Oh! Me too! Did he mention the Jiggle Jam?” Ginny exclaimed.

Harry sighed, relieved that for the change in topic. He glanced at the Slytherin table one last time — _oddly, Malfoy and Parkinson were both absent now_ — then turned away and listened to Ginny’s explanation on her brother’s new _Giggling Gelatin._

**~•~•~**

Only four days had passed until Nesson and Nott broke out into a second fight. Ron and Harry weren’t there to witness it this time, but Ginny was. She described the fight down to every _excruciating_ detail. It had been far bloodier than the last, they used their wands less and fists more. Nott was left with a broken wrist and dislocated arm. Nesson was far better off, with only a bruised up abdomen. Nott was forced to stay in the Hospital Wing for a few days, because Pomfrey was worried some brain damage had occurred. Nesson banged Nott’s head against the wall a few times.

Gryffindors and Slytherins refused to socialize with each other after the incident. Their active ignoring made some classes difficult, and McGonagall was particularly angry with the students. Harry himself didn’t feel the need to ignore any Slytherins, but he already wasn’t around any much. He couldn’t be bothered with petty school rivalries when he had a Potions Essay to write.

He glared down at the parchment, waiting for words to appear on the paper. Slughorn had been disappointed with Harry’s work and, _seeing the year had only just started,_ offered Harry some Extra Credit before his performance dropped to an unsaveable low.

“Harry, it’s only a simple essay on the harm of excessive use of a Beautification Potion. You shouldn’t be struggling so,” Hermione chastised. “Slughorn went over it just last week.”

“Please, like anyone can concentrate on what Slughorn is saying. He just drones on and on about how great he is,” Ron argued in Harry’s defence.

“Harry really should try to concentrate if he expects to become an Auror,” Hermione fired back with her eyes narrowed.

“Harry could get a Troll on every N.E.W.T. he takes and still become an Auror,” Ron replied rather calmly.

“I hope you both know that neither of you are helping,” Harry snapped at both of him. Hermione turned to him, looking rather guilty, and Ron frowned in pity.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I know you’ve really been trying this year,” Hermione apologized, sounding a lot like Mrs. Weasley.

“Yeah. I think I’m going to go to the library. There was a great book in there about Beautification Potions,” Harry announced, rushing to shove his things in his bag. He really needed to get this essay done and his friends were being too noisy for him to get anything.

“Okay, but no plagiarism!” Hermione warned has Harry nearly sprinted away.

“Like Harry could ever commit such a crime,” Ron said sarcastically.

Harry climbed out of the portrait before he heard Hermione’s reply. He shuddered as soon as he was finally alone. The happy couple have been fighting nonstop since the year started, and have been dragging Harry into it quite frequently. To make things even worse, whenever they’re not fighting, they’re snogging. He does not enjoy watching his two closest friends snog. At all. He was glad they were together, but just — _no._

Harry made his way to the library with his bag slung on his shoulder, full of heavy books that really shouldn’t slow down him. He noticed most of the halls were fairly empty, and panicked at the thought of curfew arriving soon. He began to jog, his bag produced an annoyingly persistent shuffling noise with every step. He cast a Silencing Charm on it, hushing it immediately.

“Like any of them even have brains,” a voice spoke from down the hall. Harry spotted Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson down the hall, walking very close together. Harry had amazing luck, who needed Felix Felicis. He truly loves having to walk past his rival as he has a heart-to-heart with his girlfriend or ex-girlfriend — depends on where you get your information.

“Quiet down! Before one of them hears you,” Parkinson hissed at Malfoy.

“I doubt any Gryffindors are exiting or entering the library. Did you not hear my last comment?” Malfoy asked with his usually snobbish tone. Harry felt a prick of anger.

“I just don’t want your pretty face getting bruised. Sorry for caring,” Pansy replied sweetly. Harry threw up in his mouth a little.

Malfoy swung an arm around her shoulder “Thank you, love, but I can take care of myself,” Malfoy said. Harry swore he detected sarcasm, but it didn’t seem Pansy did.

Harry really needed to get into the library, the entrance was quite a few meters away yet and Malfoy seemed to be taking his sweet, sweet time, so he stealthily — _and guiltily_ — pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag. Once he was safely invisible, he picked up his pace — he had abandoned jogging as soon as he spied the couple — while minding his footsteps’ volume.

“You could always use a little help,” Pansy flirted then swooped in for a kiss. A flicker of disgust shown on Malfoy’s face as he sharply turned his head away from her lips, resulting in a simple kiss on the cheek. Parkinson didn’t seem to mind by the smile on her face, and Malfoy managed a small, obviously-fake grin back.

At this point, Harry was much more entertained by Malfoy’s struggling love-life than the thought of writing a Potions Essay and gave up on the idea of the latter all together. He could always do it in the morning.

“I suppose,” Malfoy shrugged, and turned away stiffly. “But you can bet Nesson’s face is gonna be bruised if he tries anything again.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’d be stupid enough. Nott looked ready to kill when I spoke with him last,” Parkinson primly said.

“I’m more displeased by those fourth years that were picking on our first years anyway. Harper’s little sister was bawling by the time Blaise and I got there,” Malfoy recalled as he put a little distance between him and Parkinson.

Harry was shocked. He hadn’t heard of any Gryffindors picking on younger Slytherins, so Ron and Hermione hadn’t either. He was also surprised by Malfoy’s protective demeanor over his house peers. Not to mention how hypocritical it was for him to be mad at someone picking on other students. He’s certainly no saint when comes to that, _or anything really_.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do to stop them. Granger and Weasley haven’t done anything about it, and McGonagall will side with them,” Parkinson complained with a nasty gleam in her eye. Harry clamped his teeth down on his cheek to keep himself from defending his friends.

“Well, I have a brilliant idea,” Malfoy said with a dastardly smirk.

“Yes, you told me. How very clever of you, but I still don’t think it will help,” Parkinson stated dryly. _Slytherins have constant mood swings, how do they stand each other?_

“It will!” Malfoy exclaimed, then glanced at his watch. “Shit! Five minutes until curfew!”

Harry almost tripped over the cloak as he scrambled away from the couple and back to the Fat Lady. His mind still wondering what Malfoy’s brilliant idea could be. He couldn’t help but assume it was violent, or would put someone in mild endangerment at least.

Hermione was the only one occupying the common room — she most likely ordered everyone to bed — when Harry entered. She greeted him politely, and Harry felt slightly guilty for not finishing the essay.

“I’m sorry if Ron and I scared you away. I have been trying to calm him down, but I’m no better than he is most of the time,” Hermione apologized again. Harry noticed she was tired by the droop in her eyes.

“It’s fine, really. Um, but have you gotten after any fourth years lately?” Harry asked, trying to be nonchalant about it.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, have any fourth years gotten detentions or...”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Oh, well, I overheard that some were picking on first years from Slytherin, so I thought I should let you know,” Harry informed, feeling painfully awkward.

“Oh dear! I figured something... I’m a terrible excuse for Head Girl, aren’t I?” Hermione said miserably, staring at the floor.

“What? No! Y-you’ve been great! There’s just been so much going on, you have a busy schedule! It’s all right if one thing slips by you, Hermione,” Harry comforted, rubbing her shoulder.

“I don’t know...” She yawned.

“You should get to bed,” Harry kindly suggested.

She nodded, running her eyes. Both her and Harry headed to their designated rooms. Ron as well as the other blokes were sleeping sounding and occasionally snoring. Harry quickly changed and plopped into bed, trying not to worry about Gryffindor and Slytherin. While running over possible choices of what Malfoy’s idea could be, he fell asleep. He had a rather pleasant dream about winning the Quidditch Cup, again.

~•~•~

“Harry! Harry!” Ron exclaimed as he shook Harry’s previously sleeping body. Harry snapped his eyes open, and shot up and out of his bed.

“What happened? Is someone hurt?” He asked on instinct.

“Kinda, Theodore Nott has gone missing,” Ron informed wearily. Harry gave him a questioning expression. “Madam Pomfrey found he wasn’t in his bed earlier this morning, and they haven’t found him yet. They’ve checked all the obvious places first, but he hasn’t turned up yet. Now they’re just going room to room,” Ron added.

Harry’s stomach dropped. “Malfoy,” he blurted.

“What?”

“Yesterday he was talking about how awful the Gryffindors are being, and how if Nesson caused Nott anymore trouble he’d fight him, and how he had this idea—”

“He told you this?” Ron questioned, his raised eyebrow portraying skepticism.

“I — of course not—”

“So you were stalking him again?”

“W-what? No! I just overheard while I was at the library,” Harry lied while not making eye contact with Ron.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ron chuckled and shook his head.

“So who told you Nott was missing?” Harry said, swiftly changing the subject.

“Ginny. She overheard Professor Orchard,” Ron informed. Harry didn’t know why Ginny would have been eavesdropping the new Transfiguration teacher, but was glad she did. He simply needed to confront Malfoy and tell him to get Nott back to the hospital wing.

“Has McGonagall said anything?” Harry asked.

“No, but she probably will make a speech some,” Ron answered. Hermione popped her head into the room, and they turned to greet her at the doorway.

“Good morning, Harry. Ron, could you please help me calm a pair of worried second years?” Hermione requested. Ron exited to the common room without another word, to Harry’s amusement.

Harry, wanting to push the thoughts of the news out of his head, went to work on his procrastinated Potions Essay. He really did need that Extra Credit.

He managed to write the first half before and door slammed open. Harry hurriedly shoved the essay under some books, fearing Hermione’s wrath. When he turned around he was greeted with his best mate’s thoughtful face.

“Where’s your map?” Ron asked.

“Shouldn’t you be minding the little ones?” Harry joked with a smirk, Ron scowled.

“They’re at breakfast. Which you haven’t had yet,” Ron said knowingly, eyeing the essay sticking out from a pile of books. Harry scrambled to cover it better. Ron spent far too much time with Hermione.

“I went to the kitchens,” Harry denied. He suddenly realized how hungry he felt, and his stomach growled. “Don’t tell Hermione.”

“I won’t. Give me the map, please,” Ron requested. He guessed Ron was impersonating Hermione by his sweet tone.

Harry stood and trudged over the his trunk. He dug around some before pulling out the seemingly blank piece of parchment. Ron swiped it from his hands. “I solemnly swear I’m up to no good,” he promised with a tap of his wand.

“What do you even need it for?” Harry questioned, peaking at the newly visible map.

“Theodore Nott’s still missing and I really don’t wanna wipe anymore snot off my robes,” Ron shuddered as his eyes scanned the map.

“The Second Years can’t be that bad,” Harry argued. He was mentally intrigued of Nott’s continuing absence, slightly worried for the bloke.

“Oh, they are. Here, help me look. You take the left, I’ll take the right,” Ron instructed as he spread the map over Harry’s bed.

Harry went straight to work. He started with all the wandering dots in the Slytherin Common room and worked his way from there. Nott, of course, wasn’t anywhere in the Slytherin dungeons, but he did notice Malfoy was pacing in his room accompanied only by Pansy Parkinson. What if she’s in on it too? Malfoy did share whatever his plan was with her.

Harry scanned the rest of his side of the map fairly quickly. He did have a ridiculous amount of practice from Sixth Year. _Sadly,_ there are some skills you never forget, and speedily searching a map from a mysterious Slytherin is one of them. Ron made no noise that he’d found anything either, so Harry groaned and laid back on the spot next to his map.

“Well, he’s not on Hogwarts grounds,” Ron concluded and began to fold up the map. He gave Harry an anxious look. Harry just realized that they had discovered that Theodore Nott was missing from Hogwarts. Officially. He’s gone.

“Where would he have went?” Harry said thoughtfully.

“I don’t know, but Transfiguration starts soon and you should finish you Potions Essay,” Ron suggested.

“Shit!” Harry sprang up from his bed and bolted for the pile of books hiding his essay.

“Have fun with that. I’m going to tell Hermione our findings,” Ron said before uttering Mischief Managed at the map.

“I’m sure she’ll be pleased we confirmed that a student is in fact missing,” Harry responded before Ron walked out the door.

“Fuck off,” Ron light-heartedly replied, closing the door behind him.

_Alright, Harry, let’s finish this pissing essay._

**~•~•~**

Hermione did find the confirmed absence of Nott from Hogwarts grounds to be quite interesting, and frightening. She had been particularly stressed about the whole situation. Harry wasn’t sure if it was the scared little kids or the Slytherin’s looking ready to start the Third Wizarding War, but she was bloody freaked out. For good reasons, though. To be fair, Harry was practically the same, except his stress was more Malfoy-centric.

Malfoy definitely was acting odd when Harry first saw him in the Great Hall for lunch, sitting at his usual spot with his Slytherin mates. All the Slytherins were quiet. They barely spoke as the ate their small meals, glaring at the other students who looked them up funny — _Malfoy did to Harry_ — or just pretending no one else existed. Their subdued behavior was reasonable — a friend is missing after all — but Harry still found it extremely disturbing.

“Quit staring at Malfoy and eat,” Hermione snapped, very annoyed by Harry’s embarrassingly normal behavior.

“Leave him alone, Hermione. It’s not his fault a first year screamed in your ear,” Ron snickered, clearly enjoying a fond, recent memory.

“I still have a headache, Ron, so please keep it down,” Hermione said, rubbing her temples.

“If they give you anymore trouble, send ’em my way,” Harry offered empathically.

“No, no. It’s what being Head Girl’s about,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“I think McGonagall’s gonna speak,” Ron said, and sure enough McGonagall was standing before her students. Her expression looking like a mix of bored and worrisome.

“If I could have your attention,” she called to the children and teens. Slowly, students cut off their conversation and put their focus on the Headmistress. “Thank you. I don’t want to dawdle, so I’ll right to it.

“I’m sure all of you have heard of Theodore Nott’s reported absence from Hogwarts. The rumors _are_ true, we do not know where he could be. We have searched most of the school, but I urge you all to keep your eyes open. At this point, we do not think he is on Hogwarts grounds. I have alerted the Ministry and they will be sending an Auror to investigate, please do not give them any unnecessary trouble. That being said, I wish you all a wonderful lunch,” McGonagall preached with wandering eyes and a tight posture. The students were shocked silent for a few moments, then suddenly went back to their nonsensical chatter.

“ _An Auror?_ Dumbledore didn’t even do that when the Basilisk was paralyzing students,” Ron wondered aloud.

“She not taking any chances. There are still some threats lurking, even with Voldemort gone,” Hermione replied.

“But what rogue Death Eater would want to kidnap Theodore Nott?” Harry thoughtfully asked, taking a large bite out of his apple.

Hermione stared for a moment, deep in thought. “Maybe it wasn’t a Death Eater, maybe it was a supporter from the other side.”

“Our side?”

“Yes. His father’s a Death Eater, we went over this Harry. Easy target,” Hermione added, focusing more on her food than Harry. He fell into a wondering state as he thought of what Nott’s father had done to make anyone this angry. The lost Death Eaters were one by one being captured and chained up in Azkaban. Harry hadn’t been keeping a particularly close eye on the _Daily Prophet’s_  reports the instances, so he was unaware if Nott’s was still on the loose or not. If so, he supposes that they might be trying to lure him in by using his son as bait, though that seemed awful. He knew the Ministry wasn’t going to be say nice with the Death Eaters, but getting a child in the mess seemed _barbaric._ He also thought—

“I warned you to _STAY AWAY!_ ” a booming voice rang out over the Great Hall. “WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIM?”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I TOLD YOU I DON’T KNOW WHERE HE IS!” another shouts, just as loud as the first.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione snapped their heads towards the commotion. They find Malfoy looming over Nesson near the other side of the Gryffindor table. Malfoy’s face was flushed with rage, his jaw locked tight. Nesson was holding his ground with his shoulder set broadly, but seemed more terrified than threatening.

“WELL, IT’S SOME _AWFUL_ LUCK THAT SOMEONE YOU’VE BEEN ACTIVELY FIGHTING GOES _RANDOMLY_ MISSING!” Malfoy yelled in Nesson’s face, giving him a warning shove.

“IT IS ACTUALLY!” Nesson shoved Malfoy back, but with five times the strength. Malfoy went flying back and onto the Hufflepuff table.

“ _YOU LITTLE PRAT!_ ” Malfoy barked, he pulled out his wand and sent a hex flying towards Nesson, who dodged it simply.

“Gonna have to do better than that, _Ferret,_ ” Nesson mocked.

Malfoy promptly punched him in the jaw, with surprising force.

“ _ENOUGH!_ I HAVE SEEN _ENOUGH!_ ” McGonagall announced, casting a spell that easily pulled the boys away from each other. The rest of the conversation was too hushed for Harry to hear, but he could tell McGonagall was giving them a harsh lecture. Especially towards Malfoy.

“That was... aggressive ,” Harry said dumbly. He should have known Malfoy would do something to Nesson. Malfoy had said he would last night. Harry now realized that Nesson could be the culprit of the disappearance, rather than Malfoy.

“I’m afraid that might only be the beginning,” Hermione quietly predicted.

 

Harry gulped. _Oh, what he would give for a normal year at Hogwarts._


	2. Impeccable Imperfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the second chapter! Thanks to those who've subbed, it's great to see people who want to read more! I was able to fix the spacing issue, which was bothering me way too much... There's some Hinny in this chapter. Sorry! I like to stay close to canon, so there's gonna be some awkward Hinny for the first few chapters. Trust me, it's nothing romantic. Besides that, enjoy!

McGonagall’s confirmation made all hell break loose among the younger students. Hermione and Ron were very regularly comforting troubled first years, as were many Prefects and most of the Eighth Year. Harry had comforted only one frowning Ravenclaw boy. The boy had told him how worried his mother was about letting him come here, and how he might have to quit school. While the news of the disappearance hadn’t spread to Wizarding News, the parents had been receiving many letters. Many students were at the risk of being pulled from class. Hogwarts was already at an incredible low of population, so it was quite frightening to the staff and loyal students.

The Auror the ministry had promised didn’t discover anything of importance throughout his first week, which Harry wasn’t particularly surprised about, and had made quite a show of talking about the Ministry’s involvement of making sure Hogwarts was safe. Harry was displeased by the lack of trust he felt for them, and flung himself into finding whatever caused Nott to go missing even more. Most of his theories were Malfoy-related and admittedly ridiculous — _as Hermione often pointed out_ — but another conspiracy has broken out in Hogwarts. Harry wasn't one to sit back and watch it happen.

He was also determined to not let his schoolwork suffer. He had a consistent study schedule by the time Quidditch trials arrived. He knew Quidditch was going to interfere, but was proud of it. A years away from school did prove to be disastrous, and he was slowly recovering. As was most of Hogwarts.

Ginny didn’t plan many practices, Harry knew she was being slightly cocky about the first Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match. Slytherin’s line up was rubbish this year. Malfoy seemed to know it as well, he often came to dinner fresh out of a long practice with his team still in his gear. It was amusing to see Malfoy so desperately trying to pull together a good Quidditch team, but Harry couldn’t help to be somewhat pitiful.

Harry adverted his eyes from the Slytherin table, turning his attention to Hermione and Ron’s disagreement. He wasn’t even sure what it was this time, but he didn’t want to risk any more awkward eye contact made with any of the sweaty Slytherins.

“It’s just the upcoming Halloween spirit that’s got them spooked. Come November and they’ll be over it,” Hermione stated, eyeing Ron carefully as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Ron took a big swallow before replying, “They had me up at three this morning. I can’t handle it anymore, Hermione.”

“You’ll have to. I was up at two this morning but you don’t hear me complaining,” Hermione argued with proud posture. Ron didn’t respond, he simply kept taking huge bites of food.

“What did Professor Slughorn say about your essay, Harry?” Hermione asked, shifting her attention to him.

“Oh — erm — he said it was okay,” Harry replied, not making eye contact with her. The plate of bacon set in front of him was suddenly worth staring at.

“He didn’t like it,” Hermione responded faintly, disappointment clear in her face. Harry frowned.

“Lay uff, ’Mione,” Ron spoke while chewing. “Slug’orn won’ grade ’im ’arshly no matta how bad it was.”

“Your mother would disappointed in your manners, Ronald, and I’m aware of the his favouritism towards Harry. Potion-making is still a skill Harry should master if he wants to be a truly outstanding Auror,” Hermione insisted. “Every good witch or wizard should. I believe I’ve informed you of this more than once.”

“Right,” Ron grumbled as he turned away to chat with Seamus.

“I doubt I’ll ever master Potions. Let’s face it, the only good I ever did was with Snape’s book,” Harry complained.

“You just need a better attitude about it. I can help you study, I read of some new techniques that you might like,” Hermione kindly offered, ignoring Ron’s groan.

“Do you think we could right now? We’re supposed to classify to different properties of amphibious and reptilian blood tomorrow, and well...” Harry trailed off. He preferred not stating the fact that he didn’t even know what an amphibian was.

Hermione seemed shocked by his eagerness to learn, and bolted upright out of her seat. They made their way to the Gryffindor common room for a painstaking study session.

**~•~•~**

“How long have they been practicing?” Demelza asked Ginny as they watched the flurry of emerald robes.

“They were out here early this morning, then again just after lunch again. Five hours, maybe?” Ginny answered, watching the new Chaser closely.

“ _Five hours?_ Malfoy’s going to kill them even before Halloween,” Ron gasped, looking up from where he was cleaning his broom. He seemed exhausted just by the thought of practicing that long.

Harry glared into the sunlight to make out Malfoy barking orders at the new Beater. Goyle looked miserable as he tried to work with fearful boy. Malfoy was sat on his broom high above his team, repeatedly tossing a Snitch up and catching it, watching and ordering the Slytherins with a careful eye and sharp tongue.

“It doesn’t look like they’ll be stopping anytime soon,” Harry commented. Ginny was pleased by the statement and mounted her broom. She took off straight towards the Slytherin Captain.

“MALFOY! Get your team off the pitch!” she shouted at him. He glared at her immediately, not making any move to land.

“Slughorn gave us permission, you saw the—”

“Permission you bribed him for with Galleons. You’ve been out here all day, give your team a break and let mine practice,” she fiercely interrupted.

“Funny how your team is exactly like Potter’s. Some originality wouldn’t hurt,” Malfoy fired back. “My team’s not going anywhere.”

“Malfoy, we’ve been flying forever. I’m fucking freezing,” Zabini groaned, tossing the Quaffle in Malfoy’s direction. The ball zoomed passed his head only to be caught by another Chaser. Malfoy sharply glared at Zabini.

“Clearly your team isn’t as passionate for Quidditch as you are,” Ginny mocked.

“I have the pitch today, Weaselette. Go practice in the Forbidden Forest if you need to so badly,” Malfoy retorted stubbornly.

“What are they arguing about up there?” Ron asked as the rest of the Gryffindor team stared up at their Captain who was spitting fire with Malfoy.

“Who knows,” Harry responded, making a move to climb onto his broom. Ron stopped him with a raised eyebrow, _as if to say let Ginny handle this, you’ll make things worse._ Harry wished Ginny and Malfoy would fly closer to the ground so he wasn’t out of earshot.

“You’ve been scheduling over all my practices for two weeks straight. My team may be superior in every way, but we need our practice time on the pitch. In fact, why don’t you just forfeit the first match right now. Or let us practice!” Ginny sassed, inching closer on her broom.

“I understand all the fuss over you and Potter being the perfect couple now. You’re just as arrogant as him!” Malfoy exclaimed, his face flushed to a shade of red Gryffindor himself would be proud of.

“Would you shut it about Harry? I think you’d so more respect towards some who saved your life!” Ginny exclaimed. Malfoy scowled at the ground, crossing his arms. Ginny smirked at her accomplishment of shutting him down.

He was quiet for a few brief seconds, but eventually he whispered, “He told you about that?”

“Ron did. I advise you let us have the pitch before a let some of your teammates now the details. How you screamed—”

“If you had any sense you’d know to clamp that big mouth of yours shut right now, _traitor,_ ” Malfoy hissed desperately, his fist wrapped around the Snitch so tightly it could break in two with any more pressure.

“—and clutched his waist. Who knew Malfoys were such huggers,” Ginny rambled without a thought.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, both of them still firmly on the ground. “Maybe...” he wondered aloud as he mounted his Firebolt. Ron grabbed his wrist to get his attention.

“If he kills you, don’t blame me or Ginny,” he told Harry. It obviously wasn’t meant to be a confidence booster, as Harry now thought about all the possible ways one could commit murder with a broomstick.

“Malfoy! Leave her alone! We just want the pitch,” Harry called to the Slytherin.

“Your boyfriend here to save the day again? Fine! Have fun playing fucking idiotic Quidditch!” Malfoy boomed. Without any hesitance, he hurled the precious Snitch straight at Harry’s approaching figure. It happened too quickly for even Harry’s Seeker reflexes. The golden ball zoomed at incredible speed, and Harry scrambled to swerve his Firebolt out of the way.

 _This is it,_ he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut. _Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, death by speedy Snitch. A blow to the head that sent him flying to ground beneath him._

The Snitch opened it’s wings at the last second, stopping right in front of Harry’s nose. He stared at it cross-eyed, and never more happy to see it hover in front of him.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Ginny asked urgently as she sped towards him.

“Yeah, brilliant,” Harry breathed. He swiped Malfoy’s Snitch out of the air. He glanced at Malfoy who was gathering his team and herding then the the locker rooms.

“He’s such a prat. Threw a right fit when I told him it was our turn to use the pitch,” Ginny explained.

“I gathered that.”

“C’mon, we don’t have time to dawdle. Get the rest of the team up here,” Ginny instructed.

Gryffindor Quidditch practice went under way. With the team almost identical to his sixth years, except with Dean playing Chaser officially, they were unstoppable. Harry couldn’t wait for the match against Slytherin. They were going crush those snakes.

**~•~•~**

Harry stepped out of the locker room freshly showered and still pumped with adrenaline. Quidditch excited Harry like nothing else ever could, and most likely ever will. He noticed Ginny was standing just outside the girl’s room, struggling to get with the heavy equipment bag.

“You need some help?” he offered as he strided over to her. She smiled reluctantly, nodding. Harry pulled the bag onto his shoulder and they started for the storage closet.

“I think one of the Slytherins put some sorta Charm on our bag, it’s never been that heavy,” Ginny said, blushing with embarrassment.

Harry chuckled.“It did look like you had quite a row with Malfoy, and Slytherins seem to like revenge.”

“I didn’t think he’d such a fit over it, but you know him. Likes to push people’s buttons, and he’s stubborn,” Ginny complained.

“Likes to be high and mighty as he dictates his loosy team.”

“Hmm. At least we don’t see him much. Hides out in the Slytherin dungeons whenever he’s not out here.”

“You would know that. Obsessing over that map again?”

“What? No! I — don’t —”

“Whatever makes you happy, Harry,” Ginny grinned deviously. “But speaking of high and mighty, the Head Boy and Girl still having their rounds?”

“Ugh. They don’t stop. You’d think know that the war is over and they’re together now that’d settle down. But I swear it’s gotten worse!” Harry sighed, shifting the uncomfortable bag on his shoulder. He wouldn’t be surprised with the damned thing weighed more then one of Hagrid’s giant pumpkins.

“Just the younglings that got ’em wound up.”

“Yeah. Hopefully they find Nott soon, then all they’ll be freaked out about is Halloween. Do you think McGonagall’s going to do much for the holiday?” Harry wondered.

“Well, I think we can expect some jack o’lanterns,” Ginny laughed. She opened the closet door for Harry. He huffed as he dropped the bag onto floor, his back immediately feeling relieved of the ache.

“Hermione hopes that once Halloween passes they’ll be normal again. Whadda you think?” Harry questioned as he shut to door.

“Depends on if they learn anything about Nott,” she answered, not looking very interested. She seemed distracted.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Hey — um — Harry?” Harry looked to her as soon as he heard the nervous tone. He nodded, readying himself to support her.

“The first trip to Hogsmeade is this weekend, right?” she asked with averted eye contact.

“I believe so. Why?”

“Are you planning to go?”

“If Hermione and Ron do, of course.”

“Oh. Well — um — do ya wanna — maybe — go on a date? There? This weekend?” she blurted, watching her feet step by step.

Harry’s eyes widened, and he scratched his neck nervously.

“Sure. Sounds like fun,” he replied as calmly as he could manage. Ginny let out a relieving puff of air.

“Good. I was sure if you were interested anymore.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he was either. Ginny was pretty, she had cute freckles and Quidditch kept her in a good shape. She shared the same sarcastic humour with Harry. She had a real Gryffindor heart, one of the bravest Harry knew. He knew the Weasley family was fond of their relationship, especially Mrs. Weasley. They thought they’d be the perfect couple, puppy love turned marriage. A few kids, a few more grandchildren. Harry the strong Auror and Ginny the amazing Quidditch player. Maybe he could still have that. Maybe he could still have a normal, Wizarding life.

Harry and Ginny departed as soon as they worked out a meeting spot. He’d promised Ron he study with him so he headed straight to the Gryffindor tower while his mind raved about the future date.

The rest of the week went by without anything worth noting to Harry. Malfoy stuck to the regular practices he planned without any special permission he’d gotten from Slughorn. A few disagreements broke out here and there in Hogwart’s halls. Tension were high between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but nothing crazy had happened yet. Harry knew something or somebody was bound to explode eventually, and he couldn’t help but wonder how soon it would be. The first trip to Hogsmeade? The Halloween feast? The Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match? Would it be involving Harry? Would it be involving Malfoy? He had been part of the last newsworthy fight.

Malfoy and Nesson had both served their fair share of punishments. Headmistress McGonagall was harsher with Malfoy’s. Harry wasn’t sure if it was because she was aware of the Ministry’s all-seeing-eye over the bloke or if it was just dislike for the ex-Death Eater. Hermione didn’t think the latter was logical, McGonagall wasn’t one to favour apparently. It be might be true for Headmistress McGonagall, but not Head-Gryffindor Professor McGonagall. He would understand if she’d moved onto more fairways.

While Nesson got a less severe punishment from McGonagall, he certainly didn’t from his peers.The Slytherins were dead set on him being to blame for Nott’s disappearance. Glares from the Salazar’s students followed Nesson wherever he went, and even other houses showed their distrust. The lower years were tense when passing him in the halls, and the higher years hated him for worrying the younger ones. Hogwarts was annoyed by Nesson’s presence. He caused Nott to run away after all.

Runaway or kidnap? Harry didn’t know. No one knew. He, Ron, or Hermione didn’t know Nott well, so any information of the days following up to the day he went missing was classified to them. No Slytherins were approachable enough to ask for what they knew anything, which they most likely didn’t. They just had to wait. Something else would pop-up. They’d catch a Death Eater that knew his whereabouts. They’d find him on the outskirts of a Wizarding village. They’d hear about someone who admitted he helped with the kidnapping, whether they're from Voldemort’s side or Harry’s.

“You wanna get a butterbeer first?” Ginny asked after they greeted each other in front of the Three Broomsticks.

Harry had been anxious about the date the whole week, actively gathering advice from Hermione and Ron whenever they had the free time. Ron didn’t seem to understand what he was worried about, Harry guessed Ginny made it sound like everything was going wonderfully over the summer. Hermione gave him genuine advice, and in one instant — _she made sure Ron was distracted before whispering to Harry in the common room_ — to break up her if he wasn’t feeling anything for Ginny any more.

“Sounds brilliant,” Harry chirped. His cheeks and nose were reddening with the constant blow of bitter October chill. The Three Broomsticks Inn was already filling with Hogwarts when they entered together. Hermione and Ron were already situated at a large table with most of the Eighth Year Gryffindors as well as Luna Lovegood sitting next to Neville with a familiar dazed smile.

Ginny and Harry waved to their friends politely before sitting in a more secluded booth, far away from her brother from them to feel comfortable.Madam Rosmerta took their orders — _informing Harry that one of these days he’s going to need something stronger, which made Harry slightly confused, encouraging students to drink? Must be a Boy Who Lived Twice thing_ — with her usual charming display.

“How was your week?” Ginny asked curiously, creating small talk.

“Nothing special. Potions is still the worst, but Hermione’s studying has helped. Defence was kinda fun,” Harry replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Same for me. I’ve had this to look forward to, so I was running along just fine,” Ginny grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Harry smiled back.

“Not to mention the first match is coming up.”

“Oh! I just wish we didn’t have to play the Slytherins first. The Ravenclaws sound pretty good this year, I’d rather start with a challenge,” Ginny joked, laughing at the Slytherins.

“Keeping Malfoy from killing anyone should be a challenge enough,” Harry chuckled.

“I think it goes both ways. Didn’t you two have an awful round after your Fifth Year match?” Ginny questioned mischievously, a glint in her eyes that reminded Harry of her older twin brothers. _Well... brother, now._

Harry groaned, remembering the awful incident. “Don’t mock me too much, I was protecting Ron’s honor.”

Ginny laughed again, and reached for Harry’s hand. She tangled their hands together, leaning across the table a bit more.

“Ron doesn’t have much honor to begin with,” she shrugged with a smile.

“Really? One would think you’d have more respect when talking about the Head Boy, and an older brother,” Harry commented with his head bowed slightly. His glasses began to slide off his nose.

“You’ve spend enough time with him to now his embarrassing side,” Ginny pointed out, her eyes bright.

They both another shared a fit of laughter, but Harry couldn’t help the oddness he felt. He knew Ginny was just trying to make him laugh. She was joking about her brother. She wasn’t _serious._ Harry felt annoyed.

He pulled his hand away from hers gently, so he push his glasses back on top of his nose. That was another odd thing, he didn’t want to hold her hand. Harry was most likely the worst boyfriend a girl could ask for. Or sorta-boyfriend. Godric, he knew the date wouldn’t be anything amazing, but he didn’t need the confirmation that he longer liked Ginny. He wanted this to go well, maybe rekindle feelings lost in the war. He wanted to be a good man for Ginny, because she was... great. Great.  _Great._  Was that really the only adjective he had to describe her?

Soon enough, Rosmerta came with their drinks. Harry was glad to shift his focus on something else. They chatted with her until she had to go back to her job. Harry sipped at his butterbeer while listening to Ginny chat about Quidditch, mostly the Holyhead Harpies and her predictions for the upcoming season. Once they had both finished their beverages and talked for an hour, Ginny suggested they went to Spintwitches.

Harry enjoyed the silent stroll to the shop. The Sun was shining high despite the chill in the air. Students and shoppers were bustling around the village. The first-years were rushing to Honeydukes for their first time. A few couples were exiting Madam Puddifoot’s, some looking dazed with puppy love, others looking awkward and stiff like Harry felt after his visit with Cho some short years ago. A group of students, most likely daring Fifth Years, were huddled in front of the Shrieking Shack. Harry wanted to scare them off, feeling a sense of possessiveness towards the broken building.

Ginny had grabbed his hand again halfway through the walk. Harry tried not to be fazed by it, this is a _date,_ but his hand twitched against hers and sweat began to form. He had adverted his eyes from her a decided studying the town was the best option.

It really wasn’t, seeing Malfoy walked out of Tomes and Scrolls with a polished brunette in toe the moment he looked the store’s way. Harry didn’t recognize the girl, she must be a daft Slytherin admirer of Malfoy’s. She did look overjoyed to have her arm looped with Malfoy as he carried an overflowing bag full of books. Malfoy seemed to be trying a bury the faint look of distaste and annoyance with a confident smirk.

Ginny must have noticed Harry’s stare, because she tugged on his hand and urgently whispered, “That’s Astoria Greengrass!” Harry didn’t know why the name held any importance. He faintly remembered hearing it around school. _Oh, maybe she’s related to Daphne Greengrass._

“And?” he asked.

“It’s been rumoured their dating, don’t you remember Hermione mentioning it?” Harry shook his head no. Ginny rolled her eyes. “Anyway, she’s from a fancy Pureblood family like Malfoy, so some people think they’re arranged for marriage.”

Harry knew damn well about the Pureblood’s marrying off children for money and fame. He knew damn well Malfoy’s family was one to cling to such a tradition. He was somehow still surprised. Malfoy just seemed... too young. Harry himself couldn’t imagine getting married anytime soon. Too have his soon-to-be spouse right in front of him with that knowledge... some aspects of Malfoy’s life Harry envied, he was rich, he had a family. This was not one of them. _The Death Eater thing was another._

“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for Malfoy to be making such a commitment?” Harry questioned doubtfully.

“The Malfoy’s are scrambling to fix their reputation, the Greengrass’s managed to stay away from the Dark Lord while grooming their squeaky clean blood. The sooner, the better, I reckon,” Ginny answered.

“Did Hermione tell you that?” Harry inquired with a raised eyebrow. He recognized Hermione’s theories when he heard one.

“Maybe,” Ginny replied casually.

When they arrived at Spintwitches Harry’s mind was solely occupied by Malfoy’s apparent future wife. Ginny quickly pulled him away from the thoughts by showing him the brightly coloured Snitches for recreational use. Harry didn’t think he could play a proper game of Quidditch without a golden ball. He was so attuned to the glimpse of gold he searched for, he be a horrid Seeker with any other ball. Though, the crimson red one did seem tempting.

Ginny mostly admired the Holyhead Harpies posters plastered to the wall. Harry noticed her toying with a few galleons, and offered to buy them for her. She declined the offer at first by soon picked out two posters, and a small booklet with all the team’s members. Harry also grabbed a bottle of broom polisher, feeling he should take better care of his Firebolt. They wandered around the store for nearly an hour, fascinated with all the new equipment, before Harry purchased their items. Ginny thanked Harry too many times to count over the small gift, leaving Harry feeling sheepish.

Eventually they met up with Ron and Hermione, then headed back to Hogwarts for dinner. Harry was relieved when he greeted his friends, he no longer wanted to be alone with Ginny at that point. Ginny and Ron discussed some of the products she and Harry saw at Spintwitches while walking back.

Harry walked behind them with Hermione, simply analyzing the date in his mind. He was mostly sure Ginny enjoyed herself. Harry liked spending time with her, but he wasn’t sure he liked the hand holding. Most of it didn’t feel like a date even, just hanging out with a friend. Ginny was just a friend to Harry. He must have frowned at the thought because Hermione spoke up.

“Everything alright?” Harry snapped his head up from where he’d been glaring at his trainers.

“Hmm? Yeah!” Hermione gave him a curious look over. Her pinched expression made it clear she was concerned.

Harry tried to wave her off with a small smile. “I’m great, truly.”

Hermione slowed her pace, putting distance between them and the siblings. The last thing Harry wanted to do was talk about Ginny to Hermione, but she was too observant for Harry to take his way out of it.

“Did something happen in your date with Ginny?” she asked kindly, in a hushed voice. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, scowling at the dirt beneath him.

“No. It went fine, everything’s fine.”

“Harry.” He gave up.

“I just... she’s sweet, she’s cute, she likes Quidditch...” he trailed off, searching for the right words.

“So you’ve found your soulmate. What’s so upsetting about that?” Hermione questioned with a hint of tease in her tone.

“It’s upsetting because — she — I — we — I don’t like her,” Harry stuttered, hunching down into his cloak.

“Then you don’t want someone sweet, cute, or a Quidditch fan,” Hermione simply responded, not bothered by the confession. Harry cursed her logical thinking, romance isn’t logical. Romance is anything _but_ logical.

“Why wouldn’t I? That’s a load of bollocks, Hermione! She’s perfect!” he exclaimed as loudly as he dared without Ginny or Ron hearing.

“So you don’t want perfect.”

“But...” Hermione stopped walked and turned so her whole body was facing him.

“This really isn’t that complicated, Harry. You don’t fancy Ginny anymore, so what! You’re eighteen. You have plenty of time to find the love of your life,” she pointed out smartly.

“I s’pose.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I... She likes me. I think. I don’t wanna hurt her,” Harry added reluctantly. “And... Why wouldn’t I want perfect?”

“She’ll understand. She likes you, she doesn’t want you hurt either,” Hermione answered with a hand on his shoulder. Harry stared at her, signaling she continued. “And Ginny may be perfect, just not your perfect.”

Harry didn’t want to chat about his love life with her anymore, so he nodded and began walking again. Harry wasn’t sure he understood Hermione, or if he did, he didn’t believe her. Ginny was an outstanding girl who loved Harry, why wouldn’t he want her. Of course he wants someone sweet, cute, and a Quidditch fan. She was also strong-willed, brave, witty, and... other things. Great things. Great.

_Great._

Harry didn’t want to share his true feelings with Ginny. Not while their was the risk of her being heartbroken. He would just have to wait he see how things played out. Hopefully Ginny felt the same way and they would just stop trying. Things could just fizzle out naturally. Harry suspected relationships didn’t always work like that. He’d have to break the news to her eventually.

When the trio plus Ginny arrived at the Great Hall it was still early. Not many students were occupying any of the tables. The all took their respective seats at the Gryffindor table and ate. Ron shared a story of a small rumble that broke out at Hog’s Head between two Sixth Years, one Slytherin and one Gryffindor. Hermione discussed on it further with her concerns over the rising rivalry between the houses. Of course, the rivalry isn’t anything new, but it was increasingly violent since the Nesson vs. Nott fight.

A past self of Harry did indulge in Godric’s and Salazar’s rivalry. Anyone in his year could tell you. He didn’t necessarily choose to be so heavily involved in it. Malfoy was a prick to his friends, he didn’t like people who were pricks to his friends. He told Malfoy he was a prick, Malfoy told Harry he was a prick back. It was a cycle that followed Harry for most of his Hogwarts career, it still lingered here in his final year. The only reason House rivalry became heavily involved in it was Ron’s dislike for Slytherins influenced Harry, Quidditch, and both Malfoy and Harry being powerful leaders of their Houses. Even if Harry did hate to admit the last point.

The only reason Harry wasn’t the frontman for the new and improved post-war version of the rivalry that now plagued Hogwarts, was because he didn’t care anymore. He was tired, the war drained him of his energetic youth. He was hardened. However, he did still hate Malfoy. He doubted that would ever change. Malfoy was much more vocal on his side, mainly because Slytherin’s are the ones suffering this round. He hadn’t made any official attacks, per say, since the Nesson incident. McGonagall did seem to keep him in with her punishments. Azkaban probably doesn’t seem very appealing either, since there is the possibility of him being sent there.

Harry did have some regretful pity towards the git. Sixth Year was were the climax of their tug-o-war game came to an end, and it was somewhat of an eye opener. He was a git, but one with terrible parents.

“When do ya think it’ll blow over?” Harry asked Hermione.

It was better to focus on the conversation in front of him rather than his sorta-rival that was clouding his mind. _Merlin, sorta-rival?_ He did not just use Ginny’s label on Malfoy. Perhaps he should sabotage his next potion in Slughorn’s, surely that’ll kickstart the Potter-Malfoy rivalry once again. Then he wouldn’t have to use such silly terms. Sorta-rival, _ha._ He still wholeheartedly hated him. A lot.

“Once Nott’s found. Assuming he’d found alive and well,” Hermione wearily answered.

“Alive and well? Blimey, you don’t think...” Ron gasped with wide eyes.

“It’s possible, sadly.”

“The Auror find anything new?” Harry offered as a distraction from the sobering thought of another peer being dead.

“No. He still thinks he just ran away. I don’t find it likely, but it’ll be the easiest mess for the Ministry to sort out. He’s probably just telling them what they want to hear,” Hermione theorized.

Harry hummed in agreement then turned to his right to ask Ginny about—

The seat she had been occupying was now taken by Seamus who was merrily chatting with Neville. He looked back to his friends with a bewildered frown.

“She left ten minutes ago. She said she had to study for Transfiguration. Did you not hear her?” Hermione questioned with a knowing glint in her eye.

“Guess not,” he grumbled, pushing around his pumpkin pie with his form.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you joined her.”

Harry really struggled when holding back his glare.

**~•~•~**

Eighth Year was looking forward to Halloween. They were all desperately hoping Hermione’s Halloween spooks theory would turn out true, because frightened first-years were exhausting. They had calmed down somewhat after the first few days of Nott absence, but now with the Halloween spirit haunting Hogwarts — _Harry walked into the first-year boy’s dorm one night to relax a shouting boy only to find they but was still sleeping and he’d wet the bed. Pee’s scent really wakes up a lad at half-pass midnight. He was glad he didn’t sick all over their rug_ — honestly, Harry didn’t really want to think about it anymore.

“Can’t you just write one paragraph for me?” Ron pleaded to Hermione. She forcefully shook while while she continued to scribble down equations for Arithmancy.

“Give it up, Ron,” Harry said, looking up from his notes. This week’s study technique from Hermione was fine-tuning the boring basic skills. He wasn’t particularly happy about it, like he’d been with some of the other’s. He didn’t care for the relearning differences between shades of purple. Orchid and amethyst were close enough in his eyes.

Ron mumbled under his breathe, most likely a rude comment about Arithmancy, but began to scribble silently on his parchment.

Harry tried to focus on memorizing the  _most common mistakes made while deciding a potion’s colour,_ but a body rushing around the library interrupted his thoughts. It was a skinny, pale Slytherin girl. She looked like something life-threatening had just happened to her with her scared expression.

“Excuse me?” she quietly asked when she approached their table. “Have you by chance seen my sister? Flora Carrow?”

Hermione was the first to speak. “I don’t believe we have.”

The look the girl gave Hermione was utterly miserable, and she took a few steps back. She squealed with agony and suddenly a person was standing by her side, rubbing her. It was Pansy Parkinson.

“What’s wrong, Hestia? What happened?” Parkinson demanded urgently. The other girl looked like she was going to faint. “Blaise! Get over here!”

Zabini rushed over and scanned the girl from head to toe. Parkinson continued to soothingly rub her back to calm her. Both had concerned faces, Parkinson was chewing her lip and Zabini eyebrows were drawn together tightly.

“It’s alright, calm down. Tell us what’s wrong,” he coaxed in a gentle voice Harry had never heard from him.

“It’s — Flora — she’s missing!” the girl sobbed, shoving her face into Parkinson’s shoulder. The Eighth Year Slytherins exchanged anxious glances.

“Where did you see her last?” Zabini asked.

“Breakfast! A Gryffindor girl said some nasty things to her and she ran out of the Great Hall. She was so upset over it so I thought I’d let her go walk back to the dungeons by herself. I know Malfoy said we shouldn’t, but I thought she’d be fine. When I got there later she wasn’t there so I went and looked around and... I can’t find her anywhere! This is my third time checking the library! She’s gone!” the girl rambled while tears streamed down her face. She fell to the floor with her face stuffed into her hands. Her shoulders heaved up and down while she bawled.

Zabini stared at Parkinson for a moment then spoke, “Go get Draco, and McGonagall or Slughorn if you can.”

“Her office is closer, I’ll get her first,” Parkinson replied, starting towards the door.

“Yes, okay, fine. Just go!” Zabini urged with a wave of her hand. He crouched to the floor and attempted to shush the crying girl.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, shocked by what he’d just witnessed. “Another Slytherin is missing?” he unsteadily breathed.

Ron groaned and buried his hands into his arms. “Just when I thought I’d get a full night of sleep soon.”


	3. The Sorting Hat Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three! I had the most fun writing this chapter so far. I’m going to try to get another chapter up this week, I’ll be on vacation all next week. So you’ll be seeing four really soon or really late. I’ll try my best. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Harry’s had some horrible Halloweens. _Very horrible Halloweens._ The worst one, he doesn’t remember. The second worst one...

Head Boy Ron was outraged by another Slytherin going missing — and, no, not because a fellow student missing and he felt pity. Because he needs his bloody _sleep_  — and was under a new policy called IF I CAN’T GET ANY FUCKING SLEEP THERE IS NO WAY ANY OF YOU PRICKS ARE. Harry was kept up all night by scared children and complaining teens, so was Neville, Seamus, Dean, Parvati, and the _whole_  House. The. Whole. House. Right down to Neville’s toad.

Now, being Hallow’s Eve was a Friday most of the older students were staying up late to “study” and “socialize with friends,” so when Ron’s first yelling fit was at an hour before midnight, they were ready to forgive him. They were not ready for such a virtue at seven in the morning on a Saturday. Harry wasn’t, at least.

Ron eventually shook him awake at nine with wide eyes and wild hair. He hadn’t changed out of his school robes from yesterday. Dark circles were drooping under eyes and his robes were full of dirt for whatever reason. Harry blinked at him a few times, wondering if his glasses were somehow lying to him.

“Nice Halloween costume, mate,” Harry said before dropping back against his pillow to go to sleep again.

“Oh no, you’re gonna get you lazy arse up! I haven’t got a second of sleep, you’ve had plenty! Do you know what I’ve been through last night? Do you? I had—” Ron ranted in his ear until he was suddenly silenced. Harry had peaked an eye open just enough for him to grab his wand from the end table. He was able to stealthily cast a Silencing Charm. Ron continued to shout, his mouth moving but not a word spilling out. Harry smirked with satisfaction and shut his eyes so he could sleep. Ron must of figured out the charm was on him the instant Harry let out his first snore because the yelling returned a moment after.

“A Silencing Charm? You little—” Ron wrestled him out from under the covers, Harry let out a surprised shout and threw a Knockback Jinx Ron’s way. It hit him, but not until Harry was successfully on the floor and wide awake. Ron groaned from the other side of the room, rubbing his temples.

“You’d better have a headache. You coulda gave me a heart attack!” Harry exclaimed at him, sprawled across the suddenly comfortable carpet.

“Don’t be dramatic. It makes you sound Slytherin,” Ron retorted with a glare.

“Says the bloke who kept everyone up with their wonderful theatrics,” Harry responded, not lifting up his head to see Ron’s repulsive expression.

“They wouldn’t stop whining! We weren’t like that at their age when there was that three-headed dog or Basilisk roaming the school!”

“There was a _war_ last year, Ron. And you had a similar response to Argog,” Harry responded, blissfully imagining Ron’s scowl.

“Ugh! That — _Beast!_ — was disgusting! It was all hairy and enormous... Did you see all the legs it had? And all it’s kids...” Ron shuddered, his eyes frozen as he replayed the memory.

Harry sat up to face Ron, who was shivering with his terrifying thoughts. His other roommates were no where to be seen, Harry guessed they were either passed out in the common room or were able to brave breakfast. Seamus was most likely the former and Neville the latter.

“Did they find Flora?” Harry blurted, remembering the true reason why no one got sleep.

“Nope. Not surprising, though, since she wasn’t on the map,” Ron answered, rubbing his eyes

“The Auror say anything?”

“Dunno. Hermione thinks he’ll take this whole thing more seriously now, though. She doesn’t find it plausible that both of ’em ran away. But they’re Slytherins, who knows,” Ron informed.

Flora Carrow’s disappearance came much more to a surprise to the school. Nott had been a popular gossip topic before he went missing, so most of the students were waiting to see what would happen next. Harry doubted any predicted he’d go _missing_ , more so another crazy duel. Flora, on the other hand, was a quiet, harmless girl. The only reason anyone would find her threatening would be her surname, but Harry wasn’t sure if she was related to the awful Carrows. If she was, it was likely that her and Nott’s disappearances were related. Both were not only wealthy Slytherins, but related to Death Eaters.

Harry understood Hermione’s easy targets rant a little more now. It seemed more likely that the students were kidnapped by a Harry Potter supporter rather than one of Voldemort’s. He hated to think someone on his side would involve such young people in this. In fact, he really wanted to prove that someone from his side wasn’t the culprit, and if that meant he would have to keep a more watchful eye out for anything suspicious or spend more time looking for clues rather than doing schoolwork, Harry would make the sacrifice. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.

 _One year_ , he sighed internally has he studied the Marauder's Map once more, that’s all I asked for. _One simple year._

Nothing conspicuous was happening in the map. Hogwarts was quite normal. Mostly normal, all of the Slytherins were tucked away in their dungeons. Either their coward-like tendencies made them want to hide from a possible threat or a teacher ordered them to stay there while they tried to work things out. There wasn’t anything _to_  work out, though. Harry checked the map while Parkinson was fetching McGonagall, Slughorn, and Malfoy. Flora was not on the map at the time, and neither was anyone that wasn’t normally in the school. _So_ that meant the culprit had already fled with Flora, _or_ the culprit was someone who was regularly here and had Flora transported somewhere else.

Harry’s eyes flickered around the map, wondering if any of the people he was studying was the kidnapper. He stared back at the Slytherin House, it was overflowing with names that made it hard to read. There was one name he couldn’t find in the ocean of names that he saw a minute ago. Draco Malfoy. He cursed under his breath and frantically began to search for the foul bloke. Why was he running about while the rest of his House was hiding away? Planning another kidnap? Performing another kidnap?

He found him in Slughorn’s office. McGonagall was also there, and Malfoy wondered what he was talking about with the Head of Slytherin and the Head of Hogwarts. Probably something the lines of _how dare you let two precious Slytherins going missing right under your nose? When my father hears about this he’ll make sure this school gets shut down for good. You’d think the Dark Lord blowing up half the place would be enough..._

Hermione made it very clear that the odds of Malfoy being behind the disappearances were slim. Harry still thought it was reasonable. He thought something was up with him in Sixth Year and no one believed him. He turned out to be right! Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater! The only problem now was what would Malfoy gain from such a crime. Well, the school could be shut down, assuming Malfoy despised Hogwarts. It was possible he was turning them trying to turn _them_  into Death Eaters, or a some new kind being Voldemort was dead. _Thank you very much._

Hermione would laugh at those theories, Ron too.

There was also... The Malfoy’s suffered greatly in the after effects of the war. It wasn’t a name as highly respected as it used to be. The were still rich, but they weren’t nearly as powerful as they were pre-war. Malfoy’s were cunning, they cheated their way to the top. If Malfoy was able to damage the opposing side — _Harry’s_ — and make them in some senses even, perhaps he could raise the name again. The damage would have to be extreme. Extreme was kidnapping several students, then framing it on an important light side supporter. Or even, Merlin, serial killings.

 _However,_ Malfoy did prove himself to be not fond of murdering on the Astronomy Tower that lethal night. Kidnapping was something he might expect from him.

Said framed supporter would get quite the Azkaban sentence. The Savior’s side could be seen as extremists out for revenge, and their victims included children.

Harry laid his head on his desk and groaned.

“What is it now? I’m trying to nap!” Ron snapped from his bed. He had been sleeping all day, everyone was wise enough to leave him be after the night he had. The some of the first, second, and third years were visibly feeling guilty when Harry saw them in the common room after lunch. He just hoped they didn’t give Ron and Hermione another rough night. Nightmares can be scary, yes, but a sleep-deprived Ron Weasley was much more disturbing.

“Do you think I’m crazy? I’ve seen a lotta shit, is it causing me to lose my mind?” Harry questioned.

“Yep. But I thought that was common sense,” Ron responded with a bored yawn.

“I bet it was the Horcrux thing. It probably ate away my mind,” Harry hypothesized, not really caring about Ron’s rude remark.

“Urk. What’s got you in such a foul mood?”

“Malfoy.”

“I shoulda saw that coming.”

“The locket made us crazy when we wore it too long. I _was_  one for seventeen years. What if I’m psychotic? Am I just gonna explode one day?” Harry asked, his expression blank.

“You’re depressing,” Ron concluded then went back to sleep.

“Good talk, Ronald. Good talk,” Harry commented. He resumed peacefully observing the map.

**~•~•~**

The next night was quiet, for the Gryffindors. Only one second year girl had been woken up by a nightmare. Hermione swiftly took care of her before even her roommates woke. The night wasn’t quite as uneventful for Ravenclaw. They were spreading wide rumours about some ghost. When Harry first heard about it Sunday morning he didn’t get what the problem was, Hogwarts had plenty of ghosts. What was threatening about a new one?

The ghost was spotted in the dungeons. Two fourth-year Ravenclaws snuck down there to ask Slughorn about some ingredient they were experimenting with. Before they got to his office they saw the ghostly figure lurking down the hall. They reported the ghost was nothing like they’d seen before and it ran away before they could get a good look at it. The Ravenclaws got deducted ten points each for being out and about ten minutes past curfew. Their excuse was they were out for academic reason, they didn’t _mean_  to discover a new ghost.

Harry didn’t really care for such silly Hogwarts rumours. Not when Hermione and Ron walked into the common room either distressed frowns.

“What’d McGonagall want?” he asked, barely looking up from his game of Wizard’s Chess with Neville.

“She wants—” Ron started.

“Classified. Head Boys and Girls only,” Hermione cut him off. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sparing your mood. It’ll only upset you.”

“Now I’m actually interested. Spill,” Harry insisted.

“She’s making the announcement at lunch. You’ll have to wait until then,” Hermione responded. She and Ron took a seat on one of sofas, snuggling up close. Harry was relieved they weren’t bickering for once. Ron finally got a full night of sleep, a good rest really changes a person.

“Still can’t believe she thinks it won’t crash and burn. Anything that involves Harry and _You-Know-Who_ in such a close proximity while end with fire,” Ron discussed with Hermione.

“Wait, what’s Voldemort got to do with it? I’m fairly sure I defeated him last year,” Harry said with his eyebrows furrowed.

“He’s not talking about him,” Hermione assured Harry then turned back to Ron. “Harry won’t be with him very often. He can handle it.”

“I think McGonagall would have better luck with this if we were talking about Voldemort,” Ron snorted. Hermione shot in an agitated look. Harry returned his focus to the chess game. Neville wasn’t the best chess player, and Harry was easily winning. Much like how easily Ron wins against him. Well, he _was_  easily winning, but he’d been too distracted by his best mates and was now down a knight and bishop.

“Don’t worry about whatever they’re bickering about. You can handle anything at this point, Harry,” Neville said kindly.

“I wish,” Harry murmured. He took out Neville’s king right after, leaving him quite pleased with himself.

**~•~•~**

Harry anxiously drummed his fingers on the Gryffindor table, awaiting McGonagall’s dreaded announcement. He repeatedly demanded his friends just _tell him already_ , but they refused every time. The suspense was stressing him to a point where he was wildly coming up with possible announcements. The You-Know-Who comment Ron made was quite troubling, as he kept thinking of potentially life-threatening situations taking place in Hogwarts.

He doubted Hogwarts would be doing anything thing like the Triwizard Tournament for a long while. McGonagall seemed to be trying to keep the peace, so such a contest was out of the question. It _could_ have something to do with the missing students, though he didn’t know why Harry would be troubled by looking for some students. What else unnerved Harry to the point of using such a nickname as You-Know-Who to describe him? Perhaps Ron was mocking him. Perhaps he was worried for nothing.

“Your attention, please,” McGonagall’s voice rang out above Harry’s noisy thoughts. The Great Hall melted into a meticulous silence. She nodded to her obeying students and started her speech, “As you all know too well, there has been a few concerning events since the year started. I’ve tried to be patient with you all. I understand the past few years have been quite hard for those your age, as it has for everyone. But, I can not tolerate the childish divisions that have taken control of your social behavior. You are all Hogwarts student, you need to learn to respect each other.

“Therefore, I have been brainstorming possible solutions. The root of this problem, as it has been for the past centuries, is the boundary that separates the four Houses. While the Houses were founded on the idea of one playing to their own strength while being helped by the other three catering to their own, it was turned into an excuse to dislike a group of students because of a single personality trait or common ancestral backgrounds, and hyperactive competitiveness that burdens us all into wanting to be superior in whatever way, shape, or form we can find it.

“I’ve spoken to your professors and they’ve all agreed to my proposal to rid of division among our students. The Head Boys and Girls have also agreed. With that being said, you will be meeting once a week with three different students of each other opposite House and same year to study with. You will not be with the same three students the whole year, they will change every week, as they will be chosen randomly. If you do not show up to study with the other students you will be deducted points and given a week’s worth of detention, and if it repeats the punishment will double each time. Might you have questions, consult to your Head Boy or Girl. That is all.” McGonagall then a forced smile then stepped down from the podium. Several outcries broke out around the Great Hall. No one was thrilled to be studying with people that were either a stranger or enemy.

Harry couldn’t say he was genuinely shocked. The rivalry was getting out of hand, McGonagall was sure to try controlling it. A studying session didn’t seem very drastic considering the circumstances. It was a small attempt at a solution, McGonagall must know that. She’s starting small, taking some baby steps. Don’t get Harry wrong, he was not looking forward to studying with some other than Hermione or Ron, but it didn’t seem that big of a deal. He could use a Ravenclaw tutor anyway. Ron thought Harry would be devastated over the news, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t. What could go so horribly wrong over a few textbooks?

“That woman’s gone batty! How is this going to help anything!” A snotty voice exclaimed in front of Harry. He lifted his head to see Draco Malfoy and his band of Slytherin Eighth Years pacing in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The latter two seemed unbothered by the insult thrown at McGonagall, as they were still in a deep conversation.

“Didn’t you say you talked to her recently? Wasn’t she going to help us?” Zabini questioned Malfoy.

“Don’t blame this on me, Head Boy. I didn’t think her idea of helping us would be shoving us as close to the problem as possible,” Malfoy sneered.

“She took a vote. Heads and professors were _combined._ I voted no, but the teachers were overjoyed at the idea,” Zabini argued with his arms crossed defiantly.

“Whatever. I can’t believe she’s forcing us to be civil with them after all the trouble they’ve caused us this year,” Malfoy hissed, his shoulders tensing uncomfortably as Parkinson loops an arm with his.

“You’re just mad because you’ll have to study with a Gryffindor,” she remarked with a smirk.

Harry realized who Ron was referring to as You-Know-Who. He was referring to Malfoy, because he was going to have to study with him at least once this year. He’d be forced to be kind to Malfoy while struggling over a Potions essay for at least one hour this year. It was likely to be multiple times, being the size of Eighth Year. He could already hear the comments.

_Maybe your handwriting wouldn’t be so atrocious with you actually held your quill properly, Potter._

_Is that your excuse for an essay? That’s hardly the size of my introduction, even with your enormous letters._

_Surely the Boy-Who-Lived could name the ingredients for a simple potion like Herbicide without begging a Ravenclaw for help._

Yes, this was bound to end with fire. Unfortunately, Harry had an odd record for things involving fire and Malfoy.

“Am I not allowed to be angry? I’ll barely be able to hear myself think while sitting next to one of their loud egos,” Malfoy retorted with his lips pursed in disgust.

 _You’re one to talk,_ Harry thought.

“Please don’t fight with any of them, Draco. McGonagall let you off easy once, she might not twice,” Parkinson begged as if Malfoy’s life depended on it.

“Yes, yes. I know, but I can’t promise I won’t with a Hufflepuff,” Malfoy promised. He held his head high, his nose pointing to the ceiling. Parkinson giggled. Malfoy didn’t seem happy that she found the statement funny.

“She’s got a point. You keep this hero act up and you’ll be expelled before you can say Salazar,” Zabini remarked with a challenging glint in his eyes. Malfoy spun around with speed of a true Seeker. His face was stretched into an unbelievable offended expression.

“You — did not — I — I do _not_  — hero act? _Ridiculous,_ I merely don’t want to stand around while my House gets trampled on by the _Savior’s_ minions,” Malfoy denied, spitting the words violently. Zabini smirked at his outrage.

“Sure,” he responded simply. He swiftly changed the subject, as if bored with the other. “How’s Astoria?”

Malfoy’s eyes filled with horror at the mention of the name.

“Yeah, Draco. How _is_ Astoria?” Parkinson demanded with intense curiosity. Harry knew Malfoy and Parkinson used to be romantically involved, possibly still. Malfoy potentially had a jealous girlfriend. Hilarious, truly. The Slytherin made a turn into a different hall, Harry followed without a thought.

“She’s... okay,” Malfoy supplied, staring ahead.

“Is okay all you have to say about her?” Zabini questioned. He sounded like he was teasing him, trying to get a rise out of him. Parkinson was clearly interested in the girl, clinging to the two words Malfoy said. Harry suspected Zabini knew something regarding Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass’s relationship that Parkinson didn’t.

“Yes,” Malfoy answered sharply, attempting to sound disinterested.

“You were out late last night, sneaking around with her were you?” Zabini inquired. Malfoy’s jaw was locked tight.

“WHAT?” Parkinson shrieked. “You said you didn’t fancy her!”

“I don’t!” Malfoy denied.

“And why would that be?” Zabini asked with faux-innocence. Malfoy shot him a glare so fiery Harry was surprised he didn’t burst into flames.

“I loathe you and everything you stand for!” Malfoy spat, then turned around to walk away out of rage but stopped after one step after he saw Harry standing right in front of him. “Potter?”

“What?” Harry said offensively.

“What are you doing down here?” Harry looked around and found he was in the dungeons, Ron and Hermione were no where to be seen. Somehow he managed to zone in on Malfoy’s conversation so well he completely forgot he was supposed walking to the Fat Lady. He had no memory of going down many flights stairs and his friends leaving his side. Did his friends say anything to him? Were they mocking him in the Gryffindor common room? Harry’s stalking Malfoy again, _ha ha ha._

“None of you business,” Harry sassed with a scowl.

“It’s completely my business if you’re eavesdropping on my conversation,” Malfoy responded with a knowing smirk. Zabini and Parkinson chuckled behind him.

“I wasn’t — why would — you’re — I don’t care anything you do!” Harry stuttered, heat sweeping over his face. He got himself into trouble, yet again.

“Flawless comeback, Potter. Nothing but the best from you,” Malfoy jeered. Oh brilliant, he was taking his anger out on Harry.

“You’re a prat, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, swiftly turning around to walk back upstairs.

“Potter seems quite moody today. Burdened with the thought of actually having to study,” Malfoy snickered with his friends.

“Shut it,” Harry warned without looking back.

“And without his girlfriend, the Weasel, or the Muggleborn there to do it all for him. The Savior shouldn’t be bothered with such a back-breaking deed as studying is,” Malfoy continued, ignoring Harry’s request.

Harry spun around, gave Malfoy a hard glare, then said, “Good luck at the match next weekend.”

Malfoy looked as though Harry slashed him with Godric’s sword. He hardened his expression before replying, “I don’t need luck. I have talent. I can’t say the same about the Weasel.”

Harry was done arguing, he just wanted to get away from Malfoy. He spun around once again and walked away.

“Tell your girlfriend I say hi! And that her team is inferior to mine!” Malfoy called to him while he rushed to the stairs. He bit back a response, the last thing he wanted was to get into a fight with Malfoy right before a match. The match he would so spectacularly win.

**~•~•~**

Ron and Hermione explained hadn’t noticed Harry wasn’t walking with him until they got to the Fat Lady, but before that, when he finally entered the common room, Ron waved the Marauder’s Map at him while laughing. Harry had thrown him a glare and distracted the pair by asking them for more information on the Inter-House study sessions.

McGonagall had named the project the Sorting Hat Act, and the study sessions was the first step. Neither Ron and Hermione knew what she had in store for the future. The Eighth Year study sessions were on Sunday, they took one hour out of the afternoon. The group would randomly study in either the library or one of the four House’s common rooms. Harry was surprised McGonagall was going to let students so freely enter other Houses. Eighth Year was a smaller year, so he’d be with similar people quite often. The Slytherins were missing four students, Crabbe, Nott, Bulstrode, and one other girl Harry never caught the name of. With only six students left, Harry could be studying with Malfoy every six weeks.

He wasn’t looking forward to spending time with any of them, really. He couldn’t help but agree with Malfoy, how _was_ this going to help anything? It seemed like it would only cause more issues among the Houses. Some Gryffindor and Slytherin were certain get into an argument that could turn into a fight really quickly. If the Gryffindor was Harry and the Slytherin was Malfoy well so be it. Harry was going to try to be... _civilized_ with him when the Sunday with him came. He didn’t know how Malfoy would be. Malfoy doesn’t need anymore trouble, as his friends pointed out, but it was his usual nature with Harry to be rude. He just have to wait and see. For now, he’d focus on the upcoming match.

The Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match was being anticipated this year more than it had been in Harry’s previous. Malfoy’s team was arguably one of the worst team’s Slytherin has seen, and Ginny’s team was arguably one of the best. It would be a short game, Harry hadn’t lost a Snitch to Malfoy yet. The students of all Houses were excited to see the rival Houses go head to head after all that’s already happened this year. The teachers were excited because they hoped the students would calm once the match passed.

The week between the eventful Halloween weekend and the match crawled by slowly. Everyone was buzzing about gossiping about Flora Carrow, the Sorting Hat Act, the mysterious ghost, and the game. Each us House seemed to focus on one, Gryffindor the match, Hufflepuff the ghost, Slytherin the missing girl, and Ravenclaw the act. Harry wondered how McGonagall planned to merge such different mind-set people. He wasn’t concerned about the match, or the ghost. He was dreading the first study session, but his worries lined up more with the Slytherins. Flora Carrow and Theodore Nott were both eerily gone, Harry saw it more important than Quidditch.

_That said a lot, not much trumped Quidditch._

When Saturday arrived after November’s chilly first week, the Quidditch nerves kicked in. Ron ate significantly less than his normal appetite, Ginny chatted nonstop, and Harry found himself fidgeting and unable to sit still. Malfoy was silent while he ate breakfast, glaring down at his food and stabbing harshly with his fork.

The weather was ominous. Grey clouds covered most of the sky, letting in only a few spots of light blue. The Sun shined dully through them, and the temperature was mild. A cool wind blew spontaneously whenever it felt to remind you it was November.

The stands were full when the Gryffindor and Slytherin team walked out of the locker rooms, just after their captains gave them their own version of a pep talk. Ginny held her head high, Malfoy kept his shoulders stretched broad, both trying to seem intimidating. When the two came face to face to shake hands, Ginny stood on her tip toes to look Malfoy in the eyes. He looked to be straining a nasty comment, his hand gripped his broomstick as though he was trying to snap it in half. Madam Hooch murmured to the captains, they shook hands, and they whistle blew.

Harry jumped into action, springing up higher than most of his teammates. The roar of spectators filled his ears, he spotted Hermione, Neville, and Luna sitting together. Hermione fondly watched Ron with a hint of a smile, and Luna say contently with her lion hat.

Seamus’s voice boomed as he commentated on the plays, “Ginny Weasley has possession of the Quaffle, she passes it to Robins. Robins approaches the hoop. She might attempt — she threw it! Morell scrambles to block it and — GOAL! GRYFFINDOR SCORES! Ten to zero!” Harry cautiously circled the pitch, watching for golden Snitch. He tuned out Seamus’s shouting, glancing at the scoreboard now and then to make sure they stay ahead.

_Twenty to zero..._

_Fifty to zero..._

_Sixty to twenty..._

A flurry of emerald robes appeared in the corner of Harry’s eye, distracting him from his search. He spotted Malfoy hovering just out of arm’s reach, eyes squinting as he looked around. Harry moved away a bit, not appreciating Malfoy’s closeness. He was pleasantly surprised Malfoy wasn’t insulting him, or attacking him. Quidditch was a rough sport. Malfoy tended to channel the roughness well, on Harry especially. He rotated between Snitch-searching, scoreboard-checking, and Malfoy-watching.

“THOMAS SCORES! Seventy to twenty, Gryffindor leads. Slytherin Seeker Malfoy better scramble to find that Snitch. ’Course, Gryffindor’s Seeker Harry Potter hasn’t lost a Snitch to him yet. Just some friendly humour, Headmistress, no need to worry,” Seamus continued as the students gave joyous — or the opposite, if Slytherin — shouts.

Harry rounded Gryffindor’s end, a careful eye on Malfoy who was towards the middle of the pitch. The shine of golden signs supporting his team glared in his eyes. He had occasionally mistaking them for the Snitch. He tried not to focus on the stands, the players were clearly more important. He cautiously inched towards the centre, Malfoy oblivious to his approaching figure as his eyes scanned the sky.

Harry felt the urge to say something. The silence between Malfoy and him kept Harry on edge, perhaps that was what he was trying to. After taking a few deep breaths, relaxation sunk into Harry’s chest. When tension were high, it’s better keep your cool, after all.

A group of Gryffindors began to chant something at the Slytherin Keeper, much like the Slytherin’s had at Ron in Fifth Year thanks to Malfoy’s very own poetic abilities. Harry saw Malfoy’s eyebrows furrow as he listened to the mocking exclamations and how his Keeper fumbled, letting the Quaffle fly through the hoop.

_Eighty to twenty._

Malfoy swooped down, closer to the main action. Harry did the same. Malfoy halted as the Quaffle soared passed his Keeper again. The poor Slytherin looked sick. Harry felt his stomach drop, embarrassed by his House’s behavior. Malfoy’s jaw was locked tight. He looked ready to pounce right into the stands. Ninety to twenty. Harry almost didn’t notice it coming towards them.

He thanked his Seeker senses because he saw a Bludger flying straight at — not Harry, been there done that — Malfoy, who’s back was turned. Harry did what his instincts felt right a zoomed to Malfoy, pushing him out of the Bludger’s path.

“What—?” Malfoy began to ask only to be answered by the Bludger flying past Harry’s head, skimming his already messy hair.

“Watch yourself,” Harry warned, letting go of the awkward grip he had on Malfoy’s uniform. One of Malfoy’s eyebrows quirked up. His mouth twitched as he held back most likely a smirk. The amused and slightly challenging expression changed as he looked over Harry’s shoulder. He sped away without another word.

_Malfoy spotted the Snitch._

Harry sharply spun around and hurried to follow him. He frantically tried to spot the Snitch, but with Malfoy rapidly swerving with his arm outstretched he knew it was better to focus on his speed. His Firebolt easily caught up to the end of Malfoy’s broom, only to have Malfoy make a fierce right turn, completely throwing Harry off. His Firebolt continued forward due to the speed, even as he tried to slow it. Harry turned his head to see Malfoy snickering at him as he sped to the left side of the pitch. He noticed a Golden shimmer where Malfoy was heading. The Snitch was a fast ball, but not a fast enough ball to get from an inch from Malfoy’s grasp to the opposite side of the pitch in a blink of an eye.

Malfoy _tricked_  him.

Harry cursed as he sped over to the Snitch. Malfoy knew he wasn’t faster than Harry, he knew he’d have to use his sly Slytherin talents to win. He knew the only way he’d have a chance was for Harry to think the Snitch was somewhere it wasn’t.

“Malfoy’s nearing the Snitch, Potter’s not too far behind. C’mon, Harry! Sorry, Headmistress! Malfoy swiped for it but missed. Harry’s hot on his tail. He looks quite mad. Over by the Slytherin hoops we have the amazing Dean Thomas once again in possession of the Quaffle in scoring territory. And he — SCORES!”

_One hundred to twenty._

“Back at the Seekers, Potter is almost shoulder to shoulder with Malfoy. This’ll be a close one. Potter seems to be struggling and — MALFOY SNATCHES THE SNITCH! NO! IT CAN’T BE! DRACO MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS ONE-SEVENTY TO ONE HUNDRED!”

Harry felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him when he watched Malfoy’s slim fingers wrap around the Snitch. It was numbing, listening to Malfoy’s cheers. Malfoy laughed and brightly smiled, circling the pitch just to rub it in the school’s face.

_One-seventy to one hundred._

Harry landed, a few teammates patted his back, most likely the Weasleys. The crowd booed. Harry was disappointed, to say the least.

Harry lost a Snitch to _Draco sodding Malfoy._


	4. Skirmishes with Slytherins

Gryffindor lost matches. Harry Potter lost matches. The post-match depression shouldn’t have been as severe as it was, but Draco Malfoy caught a Snitch. The ultimate defeat.

Harry found himself being ignored by his House the rest of Saturday and Sunday morning. It was for the best, considering he really did not feel like talking to anyone. Ron and Ginny said they didn’t blame him, but the rest of the House wasn’t as forgiving. It was supposed to be a grand win against the foul House that haunted them the previous year, but Harry bloody Potter messed it up. The Eighth Year Gryffindor’s socialized with him liked they always did. Though, he did notice Seamus giving him odd glances here and there.

Slytherin was the happiest the House had been all year. Malfoy soaked up all the praise and attention with a permanent smirk. The sobering fact of the two missing Slytherins long gone, now all that mattered was their victory. They loved the new fact that the Gryffindors were all frowns. If Harry learned one thing from the event, it was Draco Malfoy was still the slimy git he was the years before. Not that he’d ever thought different. He just thought he’d rub it in less, being Harry saved his life. It’s only kind, but Malfoy isn’t kind. Malfoy was awful when Sunday’s lunch came around.

Harry had skipped breakfast, opting to just wallow in bed for a few hours. It was a bad decision, Malfoy must have used the extra time to think up all the nasty things he could say to Potter.*** It should have been quite easy to just pretend Malfoy wasn’t there. The Slytherin table was on the whole other side of the Great Hall. Harry just kept hearing loud bouts of laughter from them. He had to glance over a few times. Malfoy was sat in the perfect middle of the table, surrounded by his team, fellow Eighth Years, and a few pretty girls fawning over him. He made eye contact with Malfoy a few times, each time he gave him this look.*** A look that made him feel inferior, idiotic, ridiculous, and other horrid adjectives Malfoy used on a daily basis. It was also questioning, what’re you going to do now? How can you one-up me now? Admit your defeat, Potter.***

Harry couldn’t take the teasing, and halfway through his lunch he decided he wasn’t hungry anymore. He started towards the exit, after saying goodbye to his friends. Unfortunately, the exit happens to be closest to the Slytherin table. He kept his head bowed low as he tried to walk past unnoticed, wishing for his invisibility cloak.

“Oh, we were just talking about you Potter!” Malfoy called as Harry urgently rushed by the table. “Tell me, what was the caused your loss of motivation? The Savior must have an excuse for not catching the Snitch! Did you do it on purpose? Spare pity on an old enemy?”

“I wouldn’t call you an old*** enemy, Malfoy,” Harry mumbled. “I suppose not. What’s your excuse then?” Malfoy challenged while staring directly into Harry’s eyes. “Something distract you?”

There was no way he’d ever admit to being distracted by Malfoy, not even to Ron or Hermione if they asked, because Malfoy knew*** he was distracting him. He knew*** some part of Harry’s focus was on him during the game. Godric, if he’d only stopped for a moment to look around before chasing after Malfoy he might have caught the Snitch himself. Harry exited of Great Hall without answering Malfoy’s question.

While Harry trudged back upstairs he realized what day it was, Sunday. Well not just Sunday, but the first day of the Sorting Hat Act. Seventh and Eighth Years were the one to start. They were going to recieve who they would be studying with by their Head Girl and Boy just after lunch, as well as where to meet them. Harry hoped McGonagall would pity him and not group him with Malfoy this week. He was praying for no Slytherins to be in his group. Hermione told him that many of the weeks there wasn’t going to be a Slytherin studying with him, there weren’t enough to go around.

Once everyone was in the common room, Ron and Hermione gave everyone a Charmed piece of parchment that would tell them there study-mates and the location they were to go to every Sunday. Harry was one of the first to get his, best mate benefits, and was only slightly disappointed in what he read.

Hannah Abbott, Terry Boot, and Pansy Parkinson. Ravenclaw common room.***

Harry trudged his way to Ravenclaw tower. Terry Boot was waiting at the end of the staircase with Hannah Abbott, the two having a friendly chat. Pansy Parkinson was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello Harry,” Hannah greeted with Hufflepuff generosity.

“Hi,” Harry replied with a small wave. He also nodded to Terry Boot, who nodded back. “Is Pansy here yet?”

“I’m here!” Pansy Parkinson answered while she strided down the hall leading to the tower. The other three greeted her reluctantly.

“Shall we?” Terry asked, motioning towards the stairs. They started the climb up, with an awkward silence. Hannah tried to strike up a conversation a few times, to no avail. The reached the door with the bronze knocker and were questioned, “What asks but never answers?”

Terry rolled his eyes. “An owl.” The other three looked at him incredulous before he shrugged and said, “Michael Corner got asked it last week.”

They entered the Ravenclaw common room, Harry, Hannah, and Pansy all taking a long look around. Harry had been in the common room before, but the situation was rushed and he didn’t get a chance to study it much. Blue and bronze was decorated everywhere. Many students were huddled together around books. The grand statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood boldly, making the room more sophisticated just with it’s presence. Terry shooed off a few Fourth Years from a table so they could sit. Many weary eyes watched the non-Ravenclaws, most were on Harry.

With most of his assignments already done from the free time he had after the match, he went to work on his Defense paper. Hannah paged through a book that would look better in Neville’s hands, Terry seemed to be writing something for Ancient Runes, and Pansy practiced a Charm repeatedly. Eventually, they all got bored.

They chatted about this and that. Rumours about new couples, magical celebrities, upcoming assignments, and regular Hogwarts excitement. The differences in their personalities made the conversation more enjoyable. Cunning Pansy knew all the hot gossip. Wise Terry had smart responses to questions. Hard-working Hannah held the conversation together. Brave Harry made bold opinions that struck up some discussions. Harry suddenly wished he had more proper friends outside of Gryffindor.

There was a strange feeling of togetherness. Maybe it was because they were the same age, maybe it was because they grew up together, maybe it was because they all got through a war. It still had the feeling of hostility on the edges. They weren’t friends, but they didn’t feel like enemies. They were students of Hogwarts. Such a feeling would should be simple, but it was truly nice. Shutting down all the rivalries and boundaries and just being students together. That’s what McGonagall wanted, and it worked.

For a bit.

In the middle of their Hogwarts romances discussion, Hannah hit a sore subject for Pansy.

“Ron and Hermione are alright. They fight a lot more than most would. Hermione’s likes to keep the sniffing private, but Ron doesn’t always,” Harry said, ending with a chuckle.

“They’re cute together. They’ve been friends for such a long time, it’s nice to see such a relationship grow stronger,” Hannah thoughtfully responded.

“You want your partner to be your best friend first. You already know the person that way,” Terry agreed. Pansy didn’t make a comment about the couple. Her face suggested she was annoyed by the subject of the two Gryffindors. Hannah noticed, and tried to include her in the conversation.

“Are there any new couples in Slytherin, Pansy?” she asked.

“No,” Pansy answered bitterly.

“Really? I heard Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy are together,” Hannah remarked innocently.

“They’re not together!” Parkinson snapped.

“Oh. Well, I think they’d be quite attractive together. Astoria’s very pretty, and Malfoy’s admittedly handsome,” Hannah commented with a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. Harry squirmed at the thought of anyone finding Malfoy attractive. Ew, gross, no.***

Parkinson’s nostrils flared and she glared at Hannah. “Astoria Greengrass is an obnoxious little brat that Draco would never find any beauty in!” she ranted, punctuating her sentence by pounding her fist on the table.

Hannah looked at her with with wide eyes, then stared down at her own lap. Terry had his mouth wide open in shock. Harry narrowed his eyes at Parkinson.

“You obviously don’t like Astoria much, but please keep your petty jealousy to yourself. Hannah didn’t mean to hurt your precious feelings,” he fumed.

Parkinson leaned over the table and slapped his face.

“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed, clutching his reddening cheek.

“I am not jealous of Astoria Greengrass!” Parkinson hissed, stomping her feet.

“Okay, calm down! There’s no need for such a ruckus!” Terry tried to intervene. The Gryffindor and Slytherin ignored him.

“You are. You know all about the rumours of the Greengrass’s marrying of their youngest daughter to the Malfoys’. And for whatever reason you*** want Draco. You hate the competition,” Harry argued.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

“I don’t get what you see in him! He’s a prick! You’d be better off if you just got over him,” Harry confidently informed. Parkinson gave him a hesitant look over.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you guys hear about ghost cat?” Terry lamely quizzed. The Gryffindor and Slytherin’s heads snapped to Terry, both with confusion riddled faces. “Just thought I’d change the subject...”

“I heard about it!” Hannah enthusiastically supplied. “Ghost cat?” Harry questioned, not aware of what they were speaking of.

“That ghost those Ravenclaws found, it’s a cat! A big cat!” Hannah explained. “Like a lion, or a panther!”

“What would a ghost like that be here at Hogwarts?” Harry asked himself, not expecting an answer.

“Who knows,” Parkinson shrugged, but she had a mischievous quirk in her face. Perhaps she knew.

“Time’s up!” Terry exclaimed, looking overwhelmed with relief. “You’re all free to go.”

The other Gryffindor Eighth and Seventh Years had many stories to tell when Harry arrived to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione’s session was uneventful, she had been paired with Ernie Macmillian, Anthony Goldstein, and Daphne Greengrass. Ron had been the unlucky one, he had been group with Susan Bones, Lisa Turpin, and the wicked Draco Malfoy. Ron claimed Malfoy had behaved, but he had looked quite glum when he stepped through the Portrait Hole.

Overall, it seemed that each session went well. There were a few unusually hilarious moments, and arguments. Harry’s cheek stung the rest of the day, but he didn’t bring attention to it. For most, the Sorting Hat Act worked like one the Flitwick’s Charms. Perfectly.

~•~•~

The ghostly cat was now a ghostly lion. A Hufflepuff girl claimed she saw the beast roaming around Gryffindor Tower just past curfew. She swore it was huge, therefore had to be a lion. The Ravenclaw’s dubbed the feline Godric, after Gryffindor’s lion-hearted founder. Surprisingly, none of the First Year’s were frightened by the new ghost. They embraced the beast like Hagrid would, as if it was a newborn kitten.

Harry doubted Godric was real, as did most Eighth Years. Ravenclaws were gifted when it came to crafting wild stories, and the first sighting was mostly a joke. Now students are just tricking themselves into seeing something that wasn’t there.

Harry hurried to strap on his Quidditch gear, shaking the lion out of his thoughts. Ginny was taking practice more seriously now that her team didn’t exceed her standards. Harry knew he’d be the one putting in most of the extra hours.

Snow had yet to fall from the sky his Hogwarts year. The clouds threatened to drop the beautiful flakes often enough, like today. Harry shivered as he stepped out of the locker room, wishing he could Vanish the clouds. Sunlight sounded much more appealing.

Most of the team was already huddled in the middle of the pitch. Once Harry had joined, and Ron and soon followed practice began. Practice was normally quite entertaining for Harry. He liked the rush of the wind, and socializing with his teammates. He liked spending extra time with Ginny and Ron. With the recent events, it made Harry gloomy.

While the Chasers flew around tossing and throwing, the Beaters banged on Bludgers, and Ron blocked every Quaffle thrown his way, Harry squinted around. Ginny wanted him to improve his spotting skills. Harry had tried to reason with her, telling her that the last game was a freak accident involving Malfoy’s pranks. He may have stretched the truth somewhat, and Ginny could tell. She claimed Harry relied on his Firebolt’s speed too much.

When Harry had finally the Snitch for the first time, spotting it near to goalposts, a taunting voice from below shouted, “It looks like Potter still can catch a Snitch after all!” Harry glanced down at the grass to find the Slytherin team with broomsticks in hand. Malfoy was watching Harry, amused at the glare Harry shot at him.

“Malfoy? I thought we agreed today was my team’s time for the pitch,” Ginny called to him, displeased by Malfoy’s sudden appearance.

“Yes, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the current schedule. I’m afraid mine longer works for me,” Malfoy explained, without a hint of rudeness in his tone.

“The middle of practice isn’t the best time to come talk to me about,” Ginny said while smoothly landing. Harry did the same.

“So sorry for the inconvenience. I’d like the pitch on Mondays from now on, you can have Fridays,” Malfoy reasoned.

“Why can’t you practice on Fridays?” Harry questioned. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“Like I’d tell you, Potter,” he snapped, his voice dripping with irritation.

“There’s no need to get so defencive about it,” Harry argued back.

“I’m not getting defencive about anything!” Malfoy hissed.

“Don’t be so childish about it! I was just asking a question!”

“You were purposely trying to intrude on my personal life, like you’ve constantly been the past years!”

“You make it sound like you’re so innocent!”

“Oh, like you own no guilt!”

“Stop being such a prick and leave! We have the pitch for the rest of the hour, you can have it next Monday!” Ginny exclaimed at Malfoy, stepping between the feuding boys. Malfoy relaxed. He huffed, eyes still surveying Harry.

“Whatever. You’re Seeker needs all the practice he can get, so I’ll pity you just this once.”

Harry lunged at Malfoy, Ginny stopped him with both her hands on his shoulders pushing him back.

She stared into his eyes, and urgently whispered, “Leave it.”

“He’s been like this since the match! I can’t take it anymore!” Harry wildly exclaimed, trying to charge at Malfoy.

“Harry! Stop! He’s not worth the fuss!” Ginny shouted in his ear. Harry tore his eyes from Malfoy, seeing Ginny’s worried eyes gleaming at him. He dropped his fists, and unwound his shoulders. “Good.”

Ginny stomped over to Malfoy. “If you don’t leave in five seconds I’m going to go speak to McGonagall.”

“Have very Gryffindor of you, Potter, sending your girlfriend to fight for you,” Malfoy snickered, staring down at Ginny with a wide grin.

Harry cast a nearly harmless Stinging Hex at Malfoy before Ginny could reply. Malfoy yelped, falling to the ground as he held the hand Harry struck to his chest. He whimpered and groaned in pain. Ginny was furious with Harry by the look on her face, and Blaise crouched down, casting a few spells onto Malfoy’s. The Slytherin team was all wide-eyes and open mouths when Harry glanced at them. “You idiot!” Ginny barked at Harry.

“He didn’t need to drag you into this!” Harry growled back.

“McGonagall might kick you off the team for this!” She buried her head into her hands with a frustrated sigh.

“I barely hurt him. He’s over-reacting!” Harry argued while frantically pointing at Malfoy.

“FLIPENDO DUO!” Malfoy cried, causing Harry and Ginny to turn their attention to him.

The world whizzed past Harry as he flew back several metres. A piercing explosion of pain erupted in his back when he landed in the supposedly-soft grass. His head immediately pounded, and his body ached. The blue sky above was fuzzing, his glasses fell off, and he heard his name being called over and over again.

“Harry! Harry! Are you alright?” A blurry face demanded. He guessed it was Ginny by all the ginger hair he could somehow make out.

“I dunno...” Harry slurred. A sluggish tiredness weighed him down. His mind told him to fight fight fight***, but his body told him to sleep sleep sleep.*** Ginny made sure Harry kept consciousness while Ron was busy casting his Patronus to fetch Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall.

Oh, McGonagall was going to be ticked. Divination wasn’t one of Harry’s strongest subjects, but he saw detention in his future. It certainly didn’t take Professor Trawley* to see it.

Harry had a good few moments to think about all the mistakes he made in his life before his was whisked away to the Hospital Wing with Malfoy. Both of them were silent while Pomfrey babbled on about them being adults, and how they could get into real trouble for this. He kinda listened to the part where she lectured Malfoy, because he’d already gotten into one before, and she rattled on about second chances or something like that. Harry’s head hurt to much for him to focus on anything, especially sound.

The treatment wasn’t anything spectacular. He laid on the hospital bed while Pomfrey prodded him a bit, then cast a few spells and gave him a potion to down. He didn’t bother asking about any of them, she knew what she was doing.

Malfoy’s was even less ground-breaking. A simple spell got rid of the pain, another got rid of the red bumps, and then she ordered him to sit and stay until McGonagall arrived. He pouted to entire time, amusing Harry greatly.

“I know you two aren’t fond of each other, but really? How childish must you be?” McGonagall asked when she stepped through the doorway. Harry and Malfoy both gazed at the tiled floor.

“Sorry — erm — Professor,” Harry blurted guilty.

“I don’t want an apology. I want a promise,” McGonagall lectured, surveying her students.

“This feud between you two has gone on long enough. It’s like you two are eleven again!”

“Promise?” Malfoy said.

“Yes. A promise that you two will be polite to each other from now on,” McGonagall informed with a tight-lipped tone. Harry and Malfoy both opened their mouths to object, but McGonagall cut them off with, “I also lied when I said I didn’t want an apology.”

“I’m sorry, Headmistress,” Malfoy and Harry replied in unison.

“No, no. I want you to apologise to each other,” McGonagall explained, then nodded between the rivals.

Harry and Malfoy stared at each other, dumbfounded. Neither wanting to be the first to say the wretched words. Harry, being the brave one, spoke first. “I’m sorry, Malfoy.”

He’d felt his cheeks heat up, and noticed Malfoy’s pale skin was also flushing with colour. He looked at Harry’s nose while he reluctantly returned the favour. “I’m sorry too, Potter.”

They both hurried to look away. Harry focused on a bed across the room, and Malfoy a plain white wall. McGonagall was pleased by the exchange. “Very good. You both have detentions Tuesdays and Thursdays until Christmas. They will be separate. You’ll be receiving an owl with more information tomorrow, that is all,” she concluded that strode away with her chin tilted high. Pomfrey sent them on their way soon after.

Harry was humiliated by the exchange. He never wanted to have to say that to Malfoy again. If they ever get into another fight this year, McGonagall surely will. He’ll just have to treat Malfoy like he would any other student, assuming Malfoy cooperates. He doubted Malfoy would ever be decent to him.

“Oh, Harry! Are you okay? How could you do this!” Hermione worriedly chastised when he climbed through the Portrait Hole. She pulled him into a tight hug, and Harry thought he’d suffocate with the grasp she had and the hair in his face.

“’M fine. Pomfrey would still have me if I wasn’t,” Harry assured with a pat on her back.

“Right, right. I was just concerned, Malfoy can be ruthless at times,” she replied, pulling back to look him in the eye. She gave him a sweet smile, and returned the friendly pat.

“I can handle whatever he throws,” he shrugged.

She frowned at the statement. “I wouldn’t test that if I were you.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I won’t. Besides, McGonagall will really chew me out if we get into a rumble irk that again.”

“She wasn’t harsh?”

“No. I think she knew it was coming after the match,” Harry answered sheepishly.

“Not that I didn’t get a punishment, detention on Tuesdays and Thursdays until Christmas break, but she just wasn’t mean about it. But she did... Nevermind.”

“Nevermind?” Hermione questioned in a familiar curious tone.

“We had to say sorry, which shouldn’t be a big deal... It was Malfoy, though, so it felt awkward. Probably what she wanted us to feel like, ashamed,” Harry explained, scratching his arm nervously.

“The fight was silly, so she wanted you to feel silly.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know what got over me.”

“You have a history with him, don’t feel too troubled over it. Just learn from your mistakes,” Hermione offers wisely. Harry was taken back by her calmness. She added, “Oh, I’m still unbelievably disappointed in you. You’re setting a terrible example for Inter-House relations!”

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled. They walked over to where Ron was occupying a sofa, sitting down next to him. Ron was displeased with Harry’s presence.

“My sister’s mad at you,” he informed. Oh, shit. Ginny.*** Harry gnawed at his bottom lip, fearing what her wrath had in store. She couldn’t be that mad, could she? It was Malfoy! Godric, she had looked pissed when he cast the Stinging Hex. McGonagall was even less pissed than she was, and she’s Headmistress! Why could she possibly be so upset! “What she say?”

“A variety of cusses and threatened to kick you off the team,” Ron responded with disinterest.

“She... What?!” His stomach flutters at the thought of not being on the team. He’s played Quidditch every year he’s been here! Making Ginny captain was a mistake.

“Apparently you can’t listen to you captain’s instructions. She told you to quit, and you didn’t,” Ron recalled with finger tapping his chin.

“Malfoy has been being a prick the last few days, tell her I’m sorry I finally snapped in front of her,” Harry half-heartedly said. Whatever. It didn’t matter if Ginny kicked him off the team or not. It’s been a bad year for him any way. He doesn’t need practice overruling his study time. He didn’t care about Quidditch! He never cared at Quidditch!

“I’m not you messenger. Tell her yourself,” Ron snapped with much bite. Harry shifted at the uncomfortable thought. Hermione looked at him sympathetically. One horrid apology was enough for him today, he’d do it tomorrow. Or the next day. Or whenever he saw her alone next.

~•~•~

Ginny was purposely limiting her time spent near Harry. She ate meals quickly, never wasted a moment while walking in the halls, and holed herself in her dormitory when there wasn’t class. Hermione and Ron were able to freely speak with her, well, everyone was. Except Harry. Bugger, that.

Harry almost felt like he didn’t miss her enough. For someone who so many considered as a possible lover for Harry, he wasn’t feeling an unrepairable heartbreak. It felt like any other fight with Ron or Hermione. A friendly quarrel. A perfect breakup scenario had presented itself to Harry. Ginny was angry with him, it might dull the possible pain. Or it could make her more outraged. Or maybe she didn’t care about him that way either. The many outcomes raced around in Harry’s brain every time he thought about her.

He had to take the risk. Just not now. Soon. He did miss her company. She was a close friend. He wanted to be close with her again. Just not that*** close. Ginny was ignoring Harry whenever he acknowledged her, so getting her somewhere private where he could apologise was difficult. Ron refused to intervene, and Hermione would most likely spill more than he wanted. He was on his own.

When Ginny walked out of the Great Hall on Thursday, Harry rushed to follow her. He called after her once he has exited. Ginny recognised his voice and continued to stride away. Harry sprinted to catch up with the redhead.

“Ginny, please, I just wanna talk,” Harry pleaded once he caught up.

“Will you actually listen to me when I talk?” Ginny questioned irritably.

“Of course! It was Malfoy, Gin, he pushes people’s buttons real well,” Harry reasoned. She stared ahead with her chin tilted up defiantly.

“I know, but I thought you’d respect my request. He’s a git, I get it, but I’m captain. You should try to follow my directions,” Ginny replied, shifting her eyes to the marble floor.

“I did,” Harry promised. “He just didn’t need to drag you into it.”

“He likes to bother us as a pair. Always as,” Ginny reminded. Harry had to search his memories a bit before remembering the Valentine’s incident, and countless others before they were even started dating.

“I guess.”

Ginny nodded.

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I meant to hurt Malfoy’s face,” Harry said, causing Ginny to laugh.

“Do you think you’ll ever try to get along with him?” she asked with a bright smile.

“Kinda have to now. McGonagall made it clear she’ll be pissed if we do anything again,” Harry answered with a small frown.

“Aw. Harry Potter has to actually get along with a Slytherin?” Ginny whines with fake sympathy.

“Oh, stop. Like your drowning with Slytherin friends, and you’re not fond of Malfoy either!” Harry accused with his finger pointed at her.

She hummed sweetly, ignore his statement.

“You never said if you forgive me or not,” Harry self-consciously pointed out.

“I forgive you, Harry. No worries,” Ginny responded instantaneously.

“Good. I hate fighting with friends,” Harry sighed with a grin.

A range of emotions flickered on Ginny’s face. She continuously blinked, her eyes scanning the floor, and flustered about. Harry winced at the mistake he had made. He called her a friend, shit.***

“Right,” Ginny blurted.

“Erm,” Harry replied.

“I need to go to Charms,” she stated, rushing away without any books in hand. Harry shoved his face into his hands. If Ginny didn’t hate him before, she surely did now.

Harry went along the rest of the afternoon replaying the awful sentence in his mind. He tried to wish away the guilt, but whenever he passed her in the hall it came right back. This wasn’t something he could fix easily. The wasn’t like a quarrel with Malfoy or argument with Ron. It was much bigger. Hatred burned for Malfoy. It was all his bloody fault***, Harry thought when he spotted him in Potions looking too gleeful. He also then remembered his detention he had tonight.

Harry had the begrudging job of fixing up some of the paintings’ broken frames. They were damaged in the battle and hadn’t been a priority when the initial restoration happened over the summer. The crew the Ministry sent in along with the teachers frantically worked to get Hogwarts up and running before September came. There were slight changes in various places, but it still felt like the same castle.

Harry hoped Christmas would arrive soon, because he hated the time-consuming task. The only thing that pushed him through was the thought that Malfoy was off doing something equally boring, and most likely scowling. The only pro to his detentions was that it gave him plenty of time to think. He thought about Ginny, Quidditch, his homework, Malfoy, Christmas, last summer, and whatever else sprung into his mind. It was relaxing. It might have been McGonagall’s intent, to relax him.

Harry had been unreasonably uptight this year. Slytherins were missing, Houses were fighting, peers were dating, but he had defeated Lord Voldemort a few months ago. He could seemingly do anything. He shouldn’t worry about disappearances, feuds, or his love-life. He was alive and well and should be enjoying the last of this school life.

However, Hogwarts was in a fuss. Students were fighting left and right, including Harry. The Wizarding War was over for most, but it certainly didn’t seem it was for the students of Hogwarts. McGonagall’s attempts at Inter-House unity only mended some of the gaping holes left by the war. It would take cooperation from all the Houses for it to sew close them. Harry didn’t think he was ready to cooperate.

He still had wounds. He was still grieving. Having Malfoy, the walking, talking ex-Death Eater, around didn’t help. He guessed it was like that from many of the students. The hostility towards Slytherin was completely understandable when one remembered how easy they had it, how horrid they might have treated the others, and that many were so closely strung to Death Eaters.

A part of Harry did want to forgive them. They’re children, they don’t know any better than Harry did. They’ve had it bad this year, too. With Flora and Nott missing on top of it all... It almost made sense that Malfoy was so bitchy about his victory. It’s the only thing that’s gone right this year for him.

Harry wondered if anything else would go right for Malfoy this year.


End file.
